


The Taming Of The Tomcat

by orphan_account



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Falling In Love, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, References to Illness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-05-11 06:24:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 30,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5616805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A night visitor to the Abbey befriends Thomas and Andy. They all need some warmth and nourishment these days.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The new visitor was as black as midnight, so slight and silky that it blended into the evening shadows expertly enough to appear invisible. Thomas assumed the feline to be male although how he made this assumption he was unable to explain to himself. He hadn’t yet got close enough to verify it is gender. In the pitch darkness of the servants yard all he could make out was the cat’s emaciated shadow and two half lidded green eyes watching him with a superiority that was somewhat familiar. He narrowed his eyes at this intruder on his favourite time of the day, when his security checks on the abbey were done and dusted and the last lingering staff members had finally taken to their beds. 

 

He always savoured the very last cigarette of the evening as he rubbed it against his lips and took a seat on one of the benches. Even now insomnia still plagued him like a vicious curse and night had always unfurled like an endless maze to him. His thoughts and memories were clambering and fighting for attention in his busy mind, He enjoyed the hustle and bustle of the abbey because it quieted the noises in his head but still he had always been a lover of solitude. There was something about the silence that settled just before he retired to his room that was comforting. The list of tasks was done and all of the family were resting. Just for a few moments, the drama of the day was quelled and silenced and he could breathe again.

 

“I don’t know what you are looking at me like that for.” He spoke into the darkness at the two slow blinking eyes patiently observing him from behind the vegetable crates. “I don’t have anything for you. Go on, scat.” 

 

He sighed and rubbed his forehead, remembering Mrs Hughes stopping him that morning telling him that some of the younger maids and hallboys must have been feeding the stray cats in the area and it was becoming a problem. She had given him an expectant look then, waiting for some decision from him that wouldn’t come. He knew he should tell her he would deal with it and swiftly do so, as Carson would do, but the thought of lecturing about something so insignificant worried him. He thought of his old self and how he would have scoffed and laughed at the whole thing. It was no wonder the new staff looked at him the way they did; he just didn’t have Carson’s authoritative manner. 

 

Thomas shook his head and tried to shake the worries from it. Anna had told him that when things were getting on top of her, she imagined her mind was like the sheets that she shook and straightened each morning. She would see the mess of her mind blowing away and straightened with each breath. Sometimes remembering this advice she had given him helped, sometimes it didn’t. 

 

He leaned forward and extended his hand to the cat, wondering if it would sniff and allow him to stroke its bony head. It only made a deep, growling noise and turned it’s tail on him, disappearing behind the crates. Thomas smiled wryly; wondering why he expected any different.

 

***

 

The next morning, Mrs Hughes was angry, Thomas could tell by the thrashing jangle of her keys as she stormed her way to the breakfast table and he took his place beside her. It was still odd getting used to all of the staff standing for his arrival. He wanted to burst out laughing at the sight of them all, so stiff and formal and unwilling to meet his eyes. 

 

“I wish to discuss something with you all before you leave.” Mrs Hughes looked around the table, a sigh beneath her stern words. “Despite what I have said before, some of you are still taking it upon yourself to feed kitchen scraps to the stray cats. For a start, we already have a use for those scraps and secondly, this will have the rats infesting the place.”

 

“If I see any of them hanging about, I give them a kick up the arse.” Peter, the new footman, said smiling a jagged smile and flashing his blue eyes. Thomas frowned and shuddered with distaste, Peter had been hired just before Thomas was taken on as butler. He had good references and showed promise in his role. He was tall and handsome with blonde hair and an arresting gaze. He had a tendency to make the maids giggle and even the ladies upstairs turned to take a second glance. Still, there was something about him that made Thomas slightly uncomfortable, 

 

“They’re nasty, greedy little things.” He met the gaze of everyone at the table in turn, daring them to challenge him. “Spread diseases too.” 

 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Daisy pouted and rolled her eyes but the heat of a blush was rising in her cheeks. “They don’t do any harm. If I see you kicking any of them I’ll give you a good kick somewhere worse.” 

 

“Alright, Daisy. There is no need to be unkind to them but please don’t feed them either. They will find nourishment elsewhere and feeding our scraps is strictly forbidden. Isn’t that right, Mr Barrow?” 

 

She turned to Thomas and gave him a sharp nudge in the ribs that genuinely stung. She raised her eyebrows urgingly at him. He knew that now was the time he was supposed to give a speech and cement his authority over them. It should have been easy but still he fidgeted, his mind forming a blank as he let his eyes wander over the expectant faces at the table. Daisy was still shining red with rage at Peter, who had laughter in his eyes. He gave Thomas a sideways glare, full of unspoken ridicule and hate.

 

“Very well, Mrs Hughes, whatever you say.” Thomas managed at last, stuttering a little. 

 

Sensing the lecture was over, everybody loosened their formal stances and the sound of relaxed mumbling broke out as they began to leave their seats. Mrs Hughes shook her head at Thomas and left. Thomas sighed inwardly, knowing that he had made a huge mistake. Maybe it was Peter, who put him in mind of someone he had once known, or maybe he just wasn’t cut out for being a butler after all. 

 

“I don’t know, eh?” Andy, who had been standing next to Peter and rolling his eyes whenever the new footman spoke, had lingered behind to give Thomas one of his smiles, full of sympathy. “All this fuss about some half dead old mog.” 

 

“Nobody said the cat was unwell.” Thomas eyed him suspiciously, although he couldn’t hide the smile that was hovering on his lips. Looking at Andy’s eyes, so bright and trusting, always made him smile a little. He remembered standing over the young man, tracing letters over his shoulder as he struggled to give them meaning. He had been close enough to hear his steady breath, see the beads of sweat gathering on his temples. Out of habit, he took a step out of Andy’s orbit, the prickle of fear warning him to keep his distance. “I take it you have seen the skinny black one that hangs about? Maybe slipped him some meat off your plate?” 

 

“I couldn’t say.” Andy laughed, averting his eyes. He took a step forward to close the distance that Thomas had put between them. “I expect I’ll get in terrible trouble with Mrs Hughes if she finds out, won’t I?” 

 

“Oh, probably not much. She’s all bark and not much bite. She has got it on her today anyway. Something about some old ring of her mother’s that got lost. She’ll be fine once it turns up.” 

 

Andy nodded, though he was looking away now and Thomas knew he wasn’t following the thread of the conversation any more. Thomas heard Daisy and Peter laughing outside and reached for his pocket watch. He planned to make some comment about how the time was getting on and they all should be making haste to their duties, so that Andy would feel free to go and join the two of them in the hallway. He didn’t think it would be wise to leave Daisy alone with Peter too long. 

 

“I wondered if you had some time tonight, we could go over some things together. About my reading, I mean.” 

 

“Well, you’re getting lessons, aren’t you?” Thomas thought of standing beside him so close again, breathing the smell of soap and that sharp, manly aroma that lingered underneath and his heart fluttered in his chest. He swallowed it down, as usual, refrained from meeting Andy’s pleading eyes. “I’m best off leaving it to those who know what they’re on about.” 

 

“My mind sort of switches off when people are speaking sometimes. It’s like being at school, you know? I was never any good at school. I start looking out of the window, thinking about other things, I can concentrate better with you,” 

 

“Go on then.” Thomas couldn’t help but grin and he felt warmth spreading from the base of his stomach up and into his cheeks. “It will have to be much later tonight. Meet me outside around midnight? Bring some food for the cat if you like.” 

Andy gave him a wide smile back before they left to begin their work.


	2. Chapter 2

Andy sat beside the fire in the servants hall trying to read the book that his new tutor recommended for him. The more he wrinkled his forehead and screwed up his eyes to bring the letters into focus, the more they swirled and danced out of his reach. The sound of the conversation from the other side of the room filtered through his consciousness and distracted him so that he slammed the book shut and flung it to the table beside him with a clatter. Daisy and Peter looked across at him in surprise for a moment, before Peter’s loud laughter caused everyone in the room to look up. 

 

“I am sorry if we are disturbing you, dear Andrew.” Peter cocked his head to one side in mock concern. “I thought this was a communal space and we could make as much noise as we wished.” 

 

“He’s got a right temper on him, he has.” Daisy narrowed her eyes across at Andy from behind her newly styled bob, shaking her head in disbelief. “You pay no mind to him; us lot try not to these days.” 

 

“Perhaps he’s still smarting since you spurned his advances.” Peter guffawed and caught Daisy’s eyes, his own full of a delighted mockery. “Is that it, Andrew? Are you still love sick over Daisy? Not that I blame you, of course.” 

 

“Is he heck as like.” Daisy muttered, taking back up the letter that she had been reading before. Her face took on a hardened expression, impossible to read. “That ship has well and truly sailed.” 

 

“Perhaps you would be better off courting me again than the bad company that you are keeping these days, Daisy.” Andy said, lifting his reddening cheeks from the fire and scowling at the two of them. 

 

“I would mind what you say, if I were you, Parker.” Peter spat with a new tone of deep viciousness that silenced the other pockets of conversation that were flowing around the table. “I have some friends who used to work with you at your old place of employment and i know a few things that you wouldn’t like getting about. Not if you wish to keep the cosy little setup that you have here.” 

 

“What the hell are you talking about?” Andy blinked and shook his head, feigning confusion, but the prickles of shame that had suddenly pinched the back of his neck made sweat break out on his armpits and trickle down his back. “You know nothing. All those fancy words, it doesn’t mean nothing. He’s not any smarter than we are, Daisy. He just thinks very highly of himself.” 

 

“I don’t rightly care what he thinks or you either. So shut your mouths both of you and let me read this letter.”

 

Everyone slowly returned to their conversations, but Andy noticed that people kept glancing curiously in his direction now. He turned his back to them and gazed into the fire but he could still feel Peter’s hateful stare burning into his back. His fingers tightened into fists and he took a few deep breaths to prevent himself from turning back around and doing something he would later regret. It was probably all just bluff and boasting. Peter didn’t know anything of significance. Andy had never seen him in his life before he turned up at Downton as the new footman, so what could he possibly know? In the beginning, Peter had been almost friendly to him but recently he had suddenly turned cold. More than likely, it was his developing feelings for Daisy, who Andy had been stepping out with when Peter first arrived. Andy and Daisy were no longer courting now, however, so perhaps Peter would back off when he realized he wasn’t going to fight over her. 

 

Still, he scratched the back of his neck with unease and glanced at the clock as it neared half past eleven. The thought of Thomas making his rounds of the house, slowly locking each door as he advanced towards downstairs and the small amount of time they would have together, finally slowed Andy’s breathing, and relaxed the tension in his curled fingers. As each staff member left their chairs, said goodnight and disappeared, he could feel the load on his back growing lighter. Yet still that insufferable Peter remained rolling his cigarettes and throwing him icy blue glares every now and then. 

 

“She’s such a nice girl. God knows what she saw in the likes of you.” Peter said, as Daisy finally left the room, leaving the two of them alone together in an uncomfortable silence. “But then, I’m surprised you took her out too, given the things that my friend has told me.”

 

“Who is your stupid bloody friend, anyway?” Andy strode up and down the room to keep his rage from boiling over. “To be honest, I am surprised that you actually have any.” 

 

“Perhaps you’ll remember him if I told you the name but I’ll save that for another time. I can see this conversation is distressing you and I hear not just from Daisy, that you do have quite a temper on you, don’t you?”

 

“What is it you want from me?” Andy stopped striding and looked at him from the corner of his eye, cold fear now replacing the anger that had fuelled his constant movement. 

 

“Nothing in particular. I just need you to know that you shouldn’t get too settled here. You can cosy up with that nancy boy butler all you like, but one word from me and you will be out on your ear.”

 

Andy stepped towards him and knocked the tobacco he was rolling on the table to the floor. He gripped Peter’s shoulder and shoved him from his chair. Peter got up and straightened his clothes. There was no fear in his face, just a baiting laughter still flickering in his eyes that made Andy’s blood boil. 

 

“Everything alright in here?” Thomas stepped into the room and looked between the two of them in bafflement, no idea that he had just saved Andy’s job and Peter’s face. 

 

****

Andy sipped the tea that Thomas poured for him and relaxed into the comfortable chair in the safety of the small office. He gasped as he took the cup from his lips, realizing with a smile that Thomas had topped his tea up with something a little stronger. The bitter taste slowed his rushing thoughts as he watched his friend search the drawers of his desk for paper and pencils. Thomas didn't speak as he efficiently arranged the writing things that he had gathered, but their silence was a comfortable one. 

 

Andy let his eyes roam over the personal bits of bobs that Thomas had on his desk. There was an old photograph of a very beautiful looking woman in a wedding dress that sat in a battered frame. Andy guessed it must be his Mother because she had the same dark hair and piercing eyes. There were a few heavily thumbed books on the window ledge and some cuttings from newspapers. He stared back down at his tea and clenched his hands around the cup. He felt he shouldn't pry too much into this personal space. They had been good friends for a while now and yet Thomas had revealed next to nothing about himself. Andy knew he was a very private person and he respected this, yet he couldn't help wondering sometimes. 

 

“I hope that Peter wasn't provoking you out there.” Thomas watched him with a furrowed brow, rubbing his forehead. “Rowing over Mrs Daisy Mason, I imagine?”

 

“No, nothing to do with her.” Andy shrugged and took another long sip of his tea. “It is stupid, really. See, I did some things when I was younger that… No, never mind. Forget I said anything.”

 

“We all have done some things we regret.” Thomas gave him a reassuring smile. “I can’t begin to tell you some of the things i used to get up to. No doubt the others have done a good job of filling you in on all of that.” 

 

“I wish I could have known you then.” He lifted his eyes to Thomas’s for a moment and hastily looked away in abashment. “Do you think we would have been friends?”

 

“Honestly? No, I don’t think so.” Thomas sniggered, taking a sip of his own tea. “I would have hated you and you would have hated me.”

 

“I don’t think that’s true, actually.” Andy said, shivering in just his shirt. Thomas leant to light the fire in the grate and handed him one of his spare jackets. Andy contentedly pulled it over his shoulders and rubbed the lapel against his nose, He absorbed the smell and tried to memorize it for later. He memorized the burning taste in his mouth, the sound of the fire beginning to take hold, and the nearness of Thomas before him, stabbing out sparks with his poker. Breath held tightly, Andy reached across and touched Thomas’s back. He traced the line of his spine under his jacket with one lingering finger. He could feel his friend suddenly shivering, despite the warmth in the room. 

 

“I don’t think I could ever have hated you.” Andy mumbled into the silence. 

 

Andy felt like that moment could have lasted forever. Neither of them speaking, just the sound of the tiny fire beginning to jump into life. The fear began to scratch at the back of his neck again as Thomas straightened away from his touch and he realized how badly this all could go wrong. He had sworn to himself he was going to change. He was going to find a girl and get married and all of this madness would be in the past. Yet here he was again, wrapped up in another man’s jacket and feeling himself falling again. He had been slowly falling since those nights in Thomas’s room, heads bent together, the silence stretching on into the early hours of the morning and the days spent walking in a hazy dream through his duties. It was like a sickness, a lifelong malady that no tonic could ease. 

 

Thomas had moved away now, back to the other side of his desk where he had taken up his pencil. He didn't look at Andy again for a while and that gave him chance to pull himself together. They began the writing lesson as if nothing had happened between them. And really, Andy reflected, nothing had. After all, they were just friends. 

 

Before they finished up their lesson and retired to bed, Thomas went to take a cigarette in the yard and Andy said that he would join him, although he didn't smoke. He huddled Thomas’s jacket closer around him to protect himself from the biting cold and sighed longingly, watching the embers from his cigarette lighting the sculpted beauty of Thomas's face in a dim, orange glow. They were both amused to hear the mewing of the cat behind the vegetable crates. While Thomas went to get some scraps of meat and a saucer of milk, Andy beckoned the cat to him with an outstretched hand and some soft words. When Thomas returned, the cat was rubbing it’s spindly side against Andy as he stroked his head. 

 

“Now, how the bloody hell did you manage to do that?” Thomas watched them both incredulously, frozen with the plate of chopped beef and milk in each of his hands. “That thing wouldn't let me near it last night.”

 

“I just have the knack of it, I suppose.” Andy winked and laughed at him as he placed the plates on the floor for their visitor, who purred gratefully. The two men stood companionably side by side, watching the cat wolf down the food. Andy kept an eye on the length of Thomas’s cigarette after he relit it, knowing that as soon as it was gone he would have to return to his cold bed and another exhausting day tomorrow, trying to avoid speaking to Peter. 

 

“They say animals have a sense for these things, don’t they?” Thomas paused a long time before taking another drag, trying to make the moment last too. “The cat can tell that you a nice lad and I am a nasty piece of work, as Mrs Patmore would say.”

 

“She doesn't know you, that is all it is.” 

 

“She knows me well enough, they all do.” Thomas sighed, tapping his foot. “That is why I feel like they are laughing at me. They know it won’t last. I'm just not respectable enough for this job. None of them respect me a bit. You know when Carson entered the room, even though I hated him, I used to feel a little bit scared, you know? We all did. We knew we had to be on our best behaviour. I can’t be like that.” 

 

“You don’t have to be like him. Everyone does respect you; you just don’t let anyone get close enough to tell you that. Anyway, I always try to be on my best behaviour when you enter the room. I can’t help but fuck it all up all the time though. You won’t tell Mrs Hughes about the cat, will you?”

 

“Of course not.” Thomas laughed as he stubbed out the last of his now tiny cigarette. Andy felt him move but pretended not to notice, being too absorbed in watching the cat. Perhaps if he didn't say anything, they could stay outside a little longer. 

 

“It is getting cold out. We should get to bed. Busy day tomorrow.” Thomas said at last, as Andy sighed and got to his feet. He gave the cat a last stroke between the ears before getting to his feet. That was when Thomas’s fingers brushed against his elbow. “Meet me out here tomorrow?”

Andy nodded, thinking maybe he wouldn't mind his cold bed so much tonight.


	3. Chapter 3

There was a faint shadow of the old strut to Thomas’s walk as he made his way down to the breakfast table. He even whistled his favourite tune and smiled at the staff as they stood for his entrance. They all looked rather worried, glancing at each other with wrinkled foreheads as if having silent conversations. Maybe Andy was right and they were slightly scared of him or maybe there was something else going on.

When Thomas turned to catch Andy’s eye and smile, he noticed there was a rectangle of space around him when usually he was surrounded on all sides by giggling maids. He caught a few of them giving Andy sideways glances.. Andy himself appeared unperturbed, though he did eat his breakfast uncharacteristically fast. Afterwards Thomas tried to take him to one side but he hurried out of the door miles before Peter, who seemed to find everything hilarious that morning. 

Thomas told himself that it didn’t matter; he would have plenty of time to talk with Andy when they met up in the evening. The thought still brought a warm, tingling feeling that started in his lower back and spread all the way to his fingertips. He could still feel the hand on his back now, hear the few words that had passed between them and see the little smiles in his mind. Night time had once been so lonely, now he gazed out of the library window and yearned for the sun to set over the estate so that he could see his friend again. 

This was thing; in his heart he knew that love was impossible. He had believed in it a couple of times before. He had even sometimes dared to imagine that one day in the future there might be someone to hold and love like all the others did. Recently he had begun to accept that the most he could ask for was friendship. He had been lucky to have a similar sort of friendship with Jimmy, before he left. And now, he could enjoy being close to Andy before he too disappeared to get married and raise a family. The thought of being so alone used to torture him but now he knew it was the way it had to be. If it meant he could savour these little moments; a hand on his back, a few kind words and some laughter, then maybe he could get through the loneliness the future would inevitably bring again. 

“Well, you are looking very bright this morning, I must say.” Mrs Hughes eyed him up and down suspiciously as they passed in the hallway near the kitchen, “Has someone slipped something into your tea?”

“Maybe, something like that.” Thomas smirked, his thoughts again returning to last night, and lighting a blush in his cheeks. “I was meaning to have a word with you actually. Is there anything I should be worried about just now? Only, I think there are some nasty rumours going about. The maids are all looking shifty and whispering in corners.” 

“Not much gets past you, does it?” Mrs Hughes concealed a heavy sigh and took his arm. “I was hoping this would all blow over today and I wouldn’t have to tell you, but it seems it is all getting rather out of control. Tell me, do you know much about Andy’s previous employment?” 

“Only that he was working as a hallboy at Chantworth Hall before we hired him to help with the wedding as a footman. If I remember, Carson telephoned the butler there to offer him the job. I think it was said Andy had been a hard worker whilst he was in their employment and there were not any major problems.” 

“As I expected, it is just this new footman starting nasty rumours. He has a big mouth on him, doesn’t he? He reminds me of someone I used to know.” She caught his eye mischievously. “I’m just going down to see Mrs Patmore about a ring that she has had stolen and you better come too. I have no idea why she didn’t go to you in the beginning.”

“So, what are these rumours?” Thomas followed Mrs Hughes further down the corridor. “The ones about Andy?” 

“Oh, something about there being a fight at his last place and he badly hurt the other boy, who came off a lot worse. He doesn’t really strike me as the kind to be handy with his fists, but you never can tell. I would pay it in no mind anyway. As I say, it will all blow over in a few days, I expect.”

 

Thomas paused in the doorway on his way out into the yard to watch the solitary figure, sillouetted by the dull light of the evening. Andy was sat on one of the vegetable crates, leaning back on his hands and pouting into the distance, shoulders hunched in cold. The stupid fool had neglected to bring a jacket despite it being the dead of night in the middle of winter, Thomas thought. shaking his head silently. He knew he really should step forward and say something but he wanted to enjoy watching him unseen for a few moments longer. He liked to take in the lithe angles of his body, the shape of his curls against the lamp light. 

“No sign of the old mog tonight.” Andy spoke without turning around. Thomas realized that Andy had known he was there watching him for all that time and fumbled for his cigarettes and something to say, chewing his lips uneasily. He had been waiting for this moment all day and now it was here he felt awkward and embarrassed, not at all how he had imagined it all to play out.

“Maybe he has sloped off to find somewhere a bit warmer to hide. Don’t blame him a bit either. It’s bloody freezing." Thomas replied, steadying his hand around the cigarette box. Looking at Andy’s eager eyes, full of warmth despite his chattering lips, quietened his anxieties.

“Come on inside, you soft lad.” Thomas beckoned him with one hand. “I’ll get one of the maids to light a fire for us in my office before we catch our deaths of cold.”

“What about the cat?” Andy was still looking around in the shadows as he visibly shivered. He looked behind Thomas, into the doorway of the servants hall, where a few of the staff were still milling about and laughing as their game of cards progressed. A shadow crossed his features then and he frowned. “Is Peter still up?”

“He is partaking in a game of rummy and winning, by the looks of his stupid grin.” Thomas watched the younger man, narrowing his eyes in thought. “Is he giving you trouble? Is that why you’re hanging about here so early? And why you didn’t come in to get your coat?”

“Over the likes of him? Not likely. I was just here waiting for you, that’s all. He can do whatever the hell he likes for all I care.” Andy shrugged and jumped down from the crate, hugging himself but still shivering. 

“Daisy isn’t in the hall with him.” Thomas added, taking in Andy’s surly demeanor and drawing his own conclusions. “She said she had some studying to do in her room.”

“Are we going to your office or not then?” 

Thomas was watching him very carefully as he tapped his cigarette against his hand, trying to gauge his reaction when he said that Daisy was not with Peter. He still suspected that the quarrel between him and Peter was over the girl they both had taken a liking to, and if it was then Mrs Hughes was right and it would probably all blow over within a few days, once Daisy had made her mind up between them. But Andy still appeared unconcerned when Thomas mentioned Daisy's name and what she was doing. In fact he continued on as if he hadn’t even spoken, waiting for Thomas to reply with the faint ghost of a smile on his lips. 

“Can I borrow your jacket again? I left mine upstairs.” 

As they crossed the hall to Thomas’s office, Peter and his companions looked up through a cloud of tobacco smoke and the cards spread across the table. Peter leaned his chair back against the wall and followed them both with his eyes. He didn’t make any comment, but his expression held a little triumph, as if he knew he had witnessed something important and he could use it against them later. 

“He is such an arsehole.” Andy threw himself down in one of the chairs as Thomas handed over his spare jacket and began to pour the tea. “He knows that I’m just dying to give him a smack in the teeth and I will do one of these days, you know.”

“I’ll just pretend that I didn’t hear that.” Thomas laughed, topping up the teas with a bottle he kept in his desk drawer. “I don’t think Daisy likes him all that much. He’s nice on the eye but he is not what she’s looking for. She’s pretty choosy, where men are concerned. I don’t know much about this kind of thing, you know, women and all, but I bet if you asked her to step out again, she would agree. She strikes me as the kind that needs a lot of chasing.” 

“Well, let someone else chase her then.” He took a grateful sip of tea and then turned questioningly to Thomas. “Why do you keep going on about her all the time?”

“I thought you liked her?” Thomas blinked, edging his chair a little closer to the fire. “Last year you would do anything to impress her. You said as much, when we had our reading lessons.” 

“I suppose so.” Andy fidgeted in his chair and the fire enhanced the glow in his eyes, making him appear even more on edge. “I did like her. I do like her. She is a very nice girl. I wanted to impress her, it’s true. I had this idea once, about getting married, having kids… I thought she was the answer but it just didn’t work out.”

“Maybe you should give it another go.” Thomas felt the room grow cold again. He stared into the flames, sippng the tea so quickly that the heat of the alcohol burnt his tongue. It did not compare to the pain that was beginning to strangle his chest. He had felt this before, when Jimmy disappeared into the distance that day so long ago, He had known this was coming but not so soon. “You are a intelligent, good looking lad. She would be very lucky and she knows that. Ask her again, just see if I’m right.”

“You don’t understand at all.” Andy edged closer to the fire too, so that their knees were almost touching. “Did you notice how people were with me today? He’s spread it all around so that they don’t want to speak to me. I don’t know how he knows but he has ruined everything.” 

“You mean Peter? What does he know? Is this about when you were at Chantworth Hall?" 

“He thinks he’s got something on me alright. He reckons he can have me finished here. He doesn’t even know the half of it. I’m sure he doesn’t. I was up half the night last night, trying to work out what he has on me. You’re the only one who I can tell about this, the only one who might understand.” 

“You’re going to have to spit it out and start making sense.” Thomas said, but his eyes remained patient. “You have completely lost me now.”

“I’m sorry. I have never told anyone about this before.” Thomas saw him take a deep breath, his fingers around the teacup trembled slightly. “When I was a hallboy at Chantworth, I shared my room with another boy called Johnny. He was a bit older than me but we got on really well. I was homesick and he looked after me. We became good friends. Anyway, I suppose I should just say it… We were very close and well…you know.” Andy was widening his eyes at him knowingly, as if there was something unsaid that he should have been catching on to, but Thomas just stared blankly back.

“His father was a cruel man. They didn’t live far away so Johnny used to go back and visit his family whenever he got the chance. He was a mean drunk and Johnny used to come back covered in bruises. I used to beg him not to go. We could have spent his halfday together, instead of him getting beaten black and blue by some old bastard. But Johnny said his little brothers needed him and he was going to look after them until they got out somehow too.” 

“He wanted them to go into service?” 

“Service was a relief for Johnny. He felt like he was earning money for his brothers, although his Dad probably spent it all on drink. Anyway, Johnny used to come into my bed at night and this one morning, the boy who had the room next to ours caught us together. This boy, Christopher Flyte was his name, wasn’t very popular downstairs. He was snivelly and snide, always running to the butler with some tale or other. So, he went and told, didn’t he? And when the butler asked me what had happened, I said it was Johnny that had started it. I said I hadn’t wanted him in my bed, but he came anyway. The butler was sad about it all, he was fond of Johnny and didn’t want to dismiss him, but he had to. Johnny got sent away and I never saw him again, never found out what happened to him. I still think about him sometimes and wonder what he said to his father when he got sent home and he asked him why.” 

“I hope he made up some story or other. Maybe his Dad never found out.” Thomas said.

“I don’t know about that.” Andy gave a lengthy sigh, clenched and unclenched his fists. “I wonder sometimes if I should have told the truth, but what would have happened to me then? That snivelly sod came to me a few weeks afterwards anyway, he said he knew that it wasn’t one sided with Johnny and he knew very well what I was. He said he was going to go to the butler and tell him everything, and not only that, he was going to the police to have me arrested as well. Looking back, I doubt he would have done, but I was so scared.. Johnny was gone and he was the one I had always turned to. I ended up beating the living daylights out of that little toad. I did him some real damage and everyone was a bit scared of me after that. I think they were pretty glad to get rid of me when Carson telephoned, and I was really glad to go too. I told myself it was a fresh start. I was going to be different. i was going to find a girl and get married like everyone else. When I found out what you were, I didn’t want to have anything to do with you any more, because of all this.” 

“I understand.” Thomas nodded slowly. 

“If this had been you, you wouldn’t have lied about it like I did.” Andy said, looking Thomas full on for the first time since he had started talking. “If you loved someone, you would have stood by them. I can tell that about you.” 

“You are not the only one to feel ashamed about what you are.” Thomas said. “For people like us, it is always so much harder. We have to do what we can and nobody can blame you for your actions.” 

“Yes but still, if it had been you, you would not have lied.” Andy repeated, anger rising again in his voice. “I don’t know how much Peter knows but he knows something. They kept it all pretty quiet so he probably just heard about me beating somebody up. It worries me, though. Even now, it still worries me that he’ll tell everybody the truth about me.” 

“I wouldn’t worry. He is an arrogant little sod but he has no real power over you. It will all blow over in a few days.” 

“Please don’t tell anyone what I have told you.” Andy looked at him in trepidation. “I won’t lose my job, will I?” 

“It’s me who does the hiring and firing around here and I promise you won’t.” Thomas couldn’t help reaching over to squeeze his arm in solidarity. “It is Peter who needs to watch his back. I have my eye on him.”

Andy smiled gratefully, a weight seemingly lifted off his shoulders. Then he stared back into the fire, stretching and trying to suppress a yawn. Thomas remembered that he had said he was up half the night before, probably tossing and turning, worrying about his future here. He hated to think of Andy going through the same things that had caused Thomas so much pain in the past too. He suggested that they both get an early night, so that Andy could catch up on some sleep and feel much better the next day.

“Shall we go outside? See if the cat has cone back?" Andy peered through the window in the door into the now empty hall. “Looks like Peter’s gone to bed. You don’t think he knows about the other thing, do you? Just about the boy who got beaten up?”

“As I said, don’t trouble yourself over what he knows.” They walked through the hall and Thomas frowned as he picked up the scattered cards on the table. “I know his sort and I will always be one step ahead of him. He won’t get the chance to use it against you.”

Thomas lit his cigarette in the doorway that led to the yard and watched Andy retrieving the cuts of beef that he had concealed earlier when Mrs Patmore wasn’t looking. He laid them on the concrete outside, promising to get up earlier than everyone else and remove the evidence before Mrs Hughes found it. Thomas assured him that he would be getting up early anyway, so he would do it. Andy looked tired enough already. He kept sneaking yawns out every now and again and rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. 

“Thanks for listening to me.” Andy grinned as he approached him, after leaving out the little meal and saucer of milk. “I feel a lot better now, just for telling somebody.”

Thomas smiled back through the billowing cloud of smoke, watching Andy move around the yard, calling for the cat. For the first time he allowed himself to feel the pull of attraction that he had concealed expertly for so long. Could Andy really be just like him? He couldn’t think about their previous conversation too much. He could only watch Andy, this time far from unseen, and let his fluid movements ripple through him like the smoke he wafted and twirled with his fingers.


	4. Chapter 4

Andy pushed aside his cup of tea to the very edge of the table and coughed as the thick tobacco smoke that flooded the room engulfed him. The smell of tobacco smoke used to make Andy heave but gradually he was learning to like it. He breathed it deep into his lungs in the servants hall that night as Peter puffed away over a game of cards. Peter hadn’t asked him to play, so he sat solitary trying to focus on the supposedly simple book that his tutor had given him to read. If Peter had asked him to join the game, he thought to himself, he would have flatly refused. He wouldn’t have minded playing with Thomas though if the two of them had been alone. He glanced at the clock and sighed when he saw it was only ten o'clock and none of the others showed any sign of retiring to bed. When he looked back, he saw Thomas lift his eyes to the clock too and then their eyes met. Andy felt a jolt that set his heart to pounding as Thomas gave him a slow smile. He let the book topple to the floor and made no move to retrieve it. With a few restraining thoughts and a whispered count to ten, he wiped at the beads of perspiration gathering on his forehead and gritted his teeth. 

 

All day he had been telling himself that he mustn’t meet with Thomas tonight. Everyone seemed to be keeping a careful distance from Andy. He had caught a few of the maids giggling and glancing his way. And then this morning he had seen Peter talking animatedly to Anna, who had widened her eyes and covered her mouth in shock. He knew he had no solid proof that there were rumours circulating about him but it was a feeling he was used to by now. At Chantsworth the last few months had been torture; people vacating rooms whenever he entered them and those he thought were friends turning their back upon him. When he started here, he had gone out of his way to be as friendly as possible and he did believe there were a few who liked him. As much as he now liked Thomas, he knew he had to take a step back. Last night he had confessed too much and he couldn’t let the same thing happen again. He had that feeling again of hands clasping over his heart and throat as if strangling him. He knew he was falling again and he had to stop it before it went too far. 

 

“I didn’t like this one either.” Daisy stooped to pick up the book he had dropped and held it out to him, smiling. “I read it a very long time ago. But you shouldn’t drop books on the floor, you know. The spines will get ruined.” 

 

“You should go back to your card game.” Andy gratefully took the book from her and nodded at Peter, who had followed Daisy with his eyes, frowning. “I think you’ll be missed.” 

 

“I’m losing by about a mile anyway.” She flopped into the empty chair beside him and tugged the cap from her head, shaking free her new hairstyle that obviously brought her great pride. She reached up to adjust it a little. “I can’t stand poker anyway. Thomas always wins because he cheats, I think.” 

 

“Still, I wouldn’t like to keep you.” Andy could make out Peter’s furiously narrowed eyes behind the cloud of smoke at the end of the table. “I thought you had gone off me anyway. Don’t you have a new friend to keep you company?” 

 

“If you mean Peter, he’s not my beau or anything.” She glanced at him and then ducked her head, a little pink gathering in the tops of her cheeks. “He asked me to go into town with him on my halfday, but I said I was busy getting ready to leave for Mr Mason’s farm. I go in two weeks, you know.” 

 

“Of course I know.” He forced himself to look at her full in the face, remembering with a cool and steady practicality the words Thomas had said about asking her out again. Behind her he could see Thomas looking thoroughly bored with the card game. From Peter’s thunderous expression Andy ascertained that Thomas was winning again. Every now and again Thomas would take the cigarette to his lips and look across curiously at Andy and Daisy. The thought of everything he had confessed to him the night before made Andy shiver slightly, and lower his head so that Thomas was no longer in his line of vision. 

 

“Before you leave, the two of us should go out together again. I enjoyed that last time.” He said to Daisy pleadingly, giving her what he hoped was his most charming of smiles. 

 

“Did you really?” She looked at him with the corner of her eye, a new maturity piercing through her usual girlish innocence. “Andy, all you did was look at the clock and talk about someone else the whole time.”

 

“No, I didn’t.” He shifted in his seat, still able to see Thomas’s blue eyes watching him. “I’ll be different this time. We could go for a walk or something so that we can talk properly.” 

 

“It doesn’t matter where we go you still won’t like me in that way.” She giggled and accompanied it with a lingering sigh. “It’s not like I don’t understand it. There is something about him, isn’t there? You never know quite what he’s thinking so you feel a bit uneasy. Mysterious, that’s the word, isn’t it? There is something mysterious about him.” 

 

“What the hell are you on about?” He blinked in confusion, anxiety gripping it’s hands around his throat again. “Who is mysterious?” 

 

“Thomas, of course.” Seeing Andy’s shocked expression, she laughed it off uneasily. “Mrs Patmore says it’s a sin but I don’t remember seeing anything about it in the bible, do you? Anyway, I think people should just try to be happy and kind to each other. That’s all we can do, isn’t it? And you know, he does look different when he’s with you. I seen the two of you looking at each other. You look happier. So, I don’t think there is anything wrong with that.” 

 

“Who have you been talking to? Has Peter been saying things about me?” 

 

“No, he hasn’t said a thing.” Andy leapt from his chair and Daisy rose too, backing off hastily. “Andy, calm down, you are scaring me.” 

 

“Are you alright there, Daisy?” Peter laid his cards on the table and looked over at the two of them, his eyes narrowing accusingly. He spoke so loudly and clearly that everyone turned their heads to look at the two of them; Andy with his fists clenched and face beginning to rage, and Daisy backing away in fright. “What are you doing, Andy?” 

 

He turned and saw all of their eyes on him then, everyone at the table taking it in and drawing their own conclusions. When he swiped his hand out, he didn’t mean to hit anything. It was a gesture of hopelessness at the situation. He forgot about the cup of tea on the table before him. Everyone gasped as it flew through the air and smashed against the wall, shattering into little pieces around their feet. He felt Daisy jump beside him and the now intense anxiety closed over his stomach. He bent down hastily to retrieve the broken shards, apologising over and over, and in his hurry the jagged edge sliced into the skin on the palm of his hand, drawing bright red blood that trickled down his fingers and on to the floor.

 

Instantly he felt Thomas beside him, pulling him gently upwards and away from the glass. He grabbed a handkerchief from his top pocket and pressed it into Andy’s cut with care, ignoring the aghast mutterings that were circling around them.

 

“Come on, Daisy.” Peter crossed the room and placed a protective arm around her shoulders. “It is a wonder you didn’t get badly hurt just then. Let's get you a drink.”

 

“I think we have had enough fun and games for one night.” Thomas spoke so firmly that the room silenced in a second. “I think we should all get to bed and try to calm ourselves before work tomorrow.”

 

“Mr Barrow is right.” Phyllis Baxter chimed in, taking the dustpan and brush from it’s hanger and beginning to clear up the mess. “It is getting very late now.”

 

*******

Andy laid his hand on Thomas’s desk in the office and averted his eyes from the bloody mess it had become. Thomas had filled a bowl full of warm water and was dabbing at the cut with cotton wool, bandages laid ready at the side. He looked up and smirked at Andy’s pale face and watery eyes.

 

“Don’t be such a baby.” He waggled the fingers of his own bandaged hand. “You should have seen this one when it was new. Yours is just a scratch.”

 

“I can’t help it.” Andy shivered and swallowed down another wave of nausea. “I’ve never been good with blood.” 

 

“I didn’t used to be either.” A shadow crossed Thomas’s face as he soaked another ball in water and delicately wiped Andy’s hand. “I had to get used to it in the war years.” 

 

“All those wounded soldiers you looked after like this.” Andy said dreamily. “I bet some of them fell in love with you.”

 

Thomas guffawed and shook his head but he couldn’t help blushing just a little. He discarded the bloody cotton wool wads and began to fix on Andy”s bandage, lines of concentration reappearing on his forehead.

 

“You know what, Thomas?” Andy spoke slowly, a slight tremor still in his voice. “You really are the bravest person that I know. This thing that both of us have. This sickness. You never once tried to hide it. I am a coward but you have never been. You might have tried to cure it but not hide. I really admire that about you.”

 

“It’s not a sickness and it can’t be cured. Trust me, I know from experience that isn't a road that you should be considering.” Thomas looked at him fully, the brief flash of anger he had seen earlier with the others now back in his face. “You are not a coward, just human. Times are hard, especially for those like us. All we can do is try to get by and be happy, like Daisy says.”

 

“So, you were listening to our conversation before?” He hung his head in embarrassment. “I don’t really want to court her again.”

 

He sighed, leaning back on the chair and curling his toes tight inside his shoes. Everything was so baffling to him just now. A few moments ago he had been certain that he must take Daisy out and convince her to marry him in order to correct all that was wrong in his life. Now the idea seemed laughable in it’s ludiocrisy. Even she had brushed off the idea as something that was now inconceivable. But her reaction had shocked him in a different way too; how she had guessed at the secret longing that he was so sure he had kept from all around him and not only that, but how serenely she had accepted the idea of him loving another man. As if there were not a thing wrong with it at all. The conversation and all that occurred afterwards had confused him immensely. The soft sensation of Thomas gently pressing the bandage to his hand was stirring his senses again. If only things were as simple as Daisy had suggested. Could they be, really?

 

“I can see that you are angry about these things that you feel. But do you ever consider yourself and your own happiness? Why don’t you tell me what it is you do want?” Thomas was finishing the application of the bandage now. His fingers lingered around the edge of the lining, softly caressing the pads of Andy’s palm. “Speaking honestly, putting everything else to one side, what is it that you want right now?””

 

“I want you.” Andy answered, closing his hand tightly around Thomas’s.

 

The sea of confusion in his mind was making him seasick but the current pushed his head gently towards that of Thomas and for once he didn’t resist or question the waves that tossed him. Thomas’s lips were open, waiting for his own to crash upon them with all the force of unspent yearning but Thomas gripped his shoulders and calmed his kiss, breaking it for breath and then retaking him with something much more soothing and full of love, like the delicate hands that had nursed his wound just now. 

 

*****

Andy felt buoyed by the events of the later evening as he jogged up the staircase and towards his room. He could still feel the breath of freezing cold on his skin from the walk outside in the yard with Thomas. They had been to see the cat but again finding no trace of him, they left titbits of food for their friend. He allowed himself a tiny smile as the thoughts of the two of them, hands clasped to keep warm in the bitter cold of the night. Thomas had told him out there that he wanted to take things slowly with him. He said that he had not been with a man for a long time and that it was something that really mattered to him, so he wanted to do it right. So many of his past encounters had been rushed and messy, he admitted, he wanted it to be different this time. Andy had no argument with that. He told Thomas that it was going to be hard for him, learning to live with the man he was and the desires he had, so he might need help with that but he wanted to pursue things with Thomas too, only as had been said, slowly. Still, however much they tried to quieten it there was something wanting in the space between them now. The thought of the following night when he could be with him again sent a flood of excitement up his spine, followed by a pinch of fear. He tried to think of Thomas and his unending bravery. With a little help, maybe he could be brave too. Or at least, like Daisy said, try to be happy.

 

“Been cosying up with your butler again?” Peter strode confidently out of his bedroom doorway in just his white undershirt and trousers, his timing showing that he had been lain in wait. “I see he has patched up your poor little hand. Shame Daisy had to bear witness to that. Still, who knows what else she will have to witness with you around?”

 

“Get out of my way.” Andy tried to shoulder him roughly out of the way, but he would not move. “What is your problem anyway? It is not my fault that Daisy won’t step out with you. She just doesn’t like you, is all, and neither do many others.”

 

“Seems you’re the one who she has reason not to like, according to my friend. He wrote to me the other day, asking what I planned to do about you. I hadn’t made my mind up yet but now I have. Why don’t you just pack up your bags and leave? It seems it would be best for everyone here not to have to deal with your outbursts any more. Who knows what could happen next time?”

 

“Just move out of the way.” He gave him a shove with his shoulder.

 

“Don’t you want to know who my friend is?” Peter smiled wickedly, giving Andy a shove back twice as hard. “Does the name Christopher Flyte mean anything to you?”

 

“What?” Andy stumbled back, searching Peter’s face in shocked confusion. Christopher Flyte brought back memories that had for once fallen away. Christopher Flyte had been the one who told about him and Johnny, the one who ruined everything. And the one Andy had beaten within an inch of his life so long ago.

 

“Yes, now you see, don’t you?” Peter’s smile remained, obviously enjoying seeing the newly gained colour and excitement fade from Andy’s face. “Christopher has a good deal to say about you as you can imagine. So, if I were you I would start packing your bags or else Thomas, Daisy and the others might get to hear a few things from me you wouldn’t like them to. Now, you would rather leave on a good note than a bad one, wouldn’t you, little Andrew?”

Peter finally stepped aside, so that Andy could flee to his bedroom, but the endless sea of confusion was taking him over again and this time it was much worse than before.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. I am so sorry that this update took so long. Real life intervened for a while but I am back in fantasy land now and intend to stay there, haha! Hope you are still reading and this chapter was worth waiting so long for. Thank you again for the comments xxx

Poor wee mite, isn’t he?” Mrs Hughes lifted the cat’s front leg and inspected the blood smeared site where Thomas had found the thorn that morning.Thomas winced at the cat’s blood and glanced at the doors to the servants hall for Andy but there was no sign of him yet; . He tensed, waiting for the scolding that was bound to follow from Mrs Hughes’ but it failed to come. She merely gave the cat, who was now and again squealing out desperate meows, a long stroke over his bony body, narrowing her eyes in concern.”We shall have to get that thorn out.”

“You hold him still then.” Thomas commanded, stubbing out his cigarette on a crate and kneeling in front of where Mrs Hughes sat with the injured feline. He swallowed nervously as the cat, somehow sensing the pain to come, watched him with trepidation,“You’ll have to keep a tight hold. He doesn’t like me much. It is Andrew he goes to. He just hisses at me.”

“Is that so? Sounds like the two of you have been making use of the kitchen scraps then.” Mrs Hughes gripped the animal hard in her hands like a vice so that he could not escape and thinned her lips together with force. 

Thomas looked over again the thorn that was embedded in the cat’s leg.He had heard the faint mewing as he was taking his morning cigarette in the sunshine, remembering with a smile the events of the nights before; Andy’s lips on his, hands traversing his body with a intense desire, It had been a wrench to pull himself out of his daydreams and search the yard for the source of the sound. He had eventually found the cat hunched behind some crates and licking his leg pitifully. He gave Thomas a mournful look and that was when he had turned to find Andy, and ran into Mrs Hughes instead. 

Frowning, he tugged the blood soaked thorn free and tossed it aside. The cat yowled and struggled but Mrs Hughes kept a firm hold of him. When she let go, it scurried away instantaneously, claws scraping the floor violently in the hurry to get away from the evil duo who had caused him so much pain. They stood together and watched him go with visible concern. Thomas sneaked a look at Mrs Hughes as he fumbled for his cigarettes, searching for the signs of the scolding he felt sure was on the way. He decided to get it started and done with as quickly as possible,.

“Your old man would never have done such a thing, I bet.” He smiled nervously and flicked the cigarette box open and closed. “No hand outs for stray cats in his day, I am afraid I don’t have his firm hand when it comes to things like this,” 

“No, he never would have allowed it.” She ficked the lingering cat hairs from her dress and looked sideways at him. Her eyes softened with kindness, “Things are different now that you are in charge. He is a good man but an old fashioned one and there are many things he and I disagree about when it comes to work.” 

“Still, it was wrong of us to go against your word, Only, Andrew took a liking to the thing. I know that I am too soft with them all,” 

“On the contrary, I heard that you took everyone in hand last night when it all kicked off. You handled the situation very well, by all accounts. You are diferent from my old fuddyduddy of a husband, it is true, but different is not always a bad thing,”  
“Do you think the cat will come back?” Thomas looked worriedly in the direction that he had scarpered. “Andy has made quite a pet of it, I think.”

“It’ll be back when it’s hungry, no doubt. They always are.” She turned and narrowed her eyes at him, watching with knowing consideration. “You have a soft spot for that one. .Andy, I mean, much more than the cat. Aye, he’s a looker with those curls and eyes he needs to mind that temper of his. It will get him into trouble one of these days,” She nudged him gently with her arm and met his eyes with warning, “Look after yourself, won’t you? It’s your own business of course, but both Charles and I would hate to see you hurt again.” 

“No need to worry about me.” Thomas chuckled and lit up his cigarette. He gazed into the distance while Mrs Hughes waited patiently for him to speak. He blew the smoke out of the side of his mouth and pushed the stones under his foot around the ground. He longed to open his mouth and spill out the events of the last few days but he knew he must tread very carefully. “You said you knew other men like me once. Do you think it is possible for someone like that to be happy like you and old Carson are?”

“It isn’t impossible. You are in an enviable position here. Lord Gratham is aware of your situation and would protect you if you chose a different lifestyle. As long as you took care not to be blatant about it. Lady Mary too is very liberal about such things. Rather too liberal if you ask me. So, if you were to make a friend and… take a lodger, shall we say, it would be easier for you than a lot of others.” She regarded him with concern. “But you must take care to choose your friends carefully. You need to be sure they can handle themselves and are prepared for the difficulties the two of you would have to face,”

“You disagree with my choice of friends?” He looked at her with his old slightly suspicious smile. 

“Who you choose to keep company with is your own affair, Thomas.” She said quickly straightening and averting her eyes to show the conversation was over. She swallowed hard and sighed, picking imaginary dust from her dress. “There is something I had been meaning to tell you as a matter of fact. It’s rather delicate. You remember the ring that I told you I lost the other day?” Mrs Hughes rubbed the finger that still had a pale indent from the missing ring. “It was my Mother’s. Not worth a penny but it meant a lot to to me. Well, some other things have been going missing as it happens. Mrs Patmore lost some jewellery and this morning one of the maids came to me to tell me she had some money stolen from under her bed. I have been trying to deal with this discretely but as you can imagine, the rumour mill is running riot amongst them all.” 

“Leave this with me.” Thomas narrowed his eyes and stared thoughtfully into the distance. “I’ll sort it.” 

“Oh, I do believe you will.” The tension eased from her worried frown and she gave him a smile of genuine kindness. “Don’t fret about the cat now. The thorn came out cleanly and it will live. Tell Andrew that as well, he does seem to take things to heart, that one. I’ll leave you to your duties now.”  
After their conversation, the brief moment of pure happiness he had felt in the morning sunshine began to melt away as the dark clouds threatened in the horizon. Lady Mary was in a foul mood, lamenting bitterly that the garden party she had been planning to attend would now have to be cancelled. Lord Grantham was in a slightly better mood as he closeted himself in the library with his newspaper. Thomas tried to concentrate on their demands and the comings and goings of the bustling servants, but his thoughts kept returning to Mrs Hughes bleak words of warning. He did seem to get the feeling that she didn’t approve of their relationship. In fact, he felt it was Andy himself she was wary of. 

He remembered with a shudder of worry the night that her husband and had voiced his concerns that Thomas may lead Andy astray. He considered that Andy was so much younger than him. Indeed, he had known many couples with larger age gaps that nobody had remarked upon. Besides, it wasn’t even Andy’s first relationship with another man. Still, those worries kept flickering and igniting in the back of his mind. He had told himself for so long that a relationship was impossible, how can that suddenly change? Nobody spoke about his inclinations although they all knew. Even Mrs Hughes had been vague in her replies to his questions earlier. Nobody wanted to talk about it because it made them feel uneasy. They all believed that it was wrong. 

As the ball of tension began to clench in his insides, he began to search desparately for Andy, who had been missing for most of the day. He began to get the feeling that Andy was deliberately avoiding him. He imagined Andy coming to him, telling him that last night he had a little too much of the topped up tea and it was all just a terrible mistake. He could see Andy’s face in his mind, hear the apologetic words that he would say. He imagined his own accepting reply; he had known so much rejection that it was just another to add to the heap. Still, the memory of that kiss and all the promise it held would sting forever. When Andy had told him that he was wanted, for a stupid moment he had actually believed it. He could still taste Andy on his lips, feel the burn of the fire on his back as they had clung to each other. 

When Thomas entered the servants hall that evening and found that Andy was still absent, the frown of worry set deeper into his face so that Baxter asked him what was troubling him, her eyes full of concern. He assured her that everything was fine, while still searching the room for some traces of Andy. Peter and Daisy were sat at the table across from him and Baxter. Daisy was holding a book in her hands but she didn’t glance at it once, she was listening so intently whatever Peter was telling her.

“I don’t think Andy would do that.” She shook her head disbelievingly and she pushed the books away. “He is so happy here. He would never leave without saying goodbye.” 

“It’s true, I’m telling you.” Peter insisted and seeing Thomas’s worried eyes watching him he smiled smugly. “He told me not to mention anything to you, Mr Barrow, but I took over Andy’s duties for most of the afternoon because he said he was taken ill. I was just saying that it was all a little strange, you see, because I saw him in the corridor last night and he mentioned that he was thinking of leaving the abbey. I don’t know why. Perhaps he mentioned something to you, Mr Barrow, when the two of you were alone in your office last night.” 

Thomas rose from his chair immediately, ignoring the questioning stares of the small group that surrounded him. He ran to the servants bedrooms and burst through the door of Andy’ rooms. He was relieved to find that everything was still in place. Andy’s trunk was still under the bed, the photos of his smiling family and a few simple books were still lying on his chest of drawers. After a quick search of Peter’s room, he returned to the servants hall and informed Peter and the others that he was mistaken.

“I wonder where that little sod has gone then.” Peter leaned back in his chair, still smirking, “He has had me running around doing the work of two, saying he was too sick to get out of bed.” 

“Perhaps he has got a lot on his mind,” Daisy said, nudging him sharply in the ribs and glancing at Thomas. “Won’t you just be quiet about it all now?”

“No, I won’t. Did you hear that some things have been stolen around here? I reckon he’s got something to hide and that is why he has done a runner. He knows that we are on to him.”

“If you want to remain working here, I would suggest you follow Daisy’s advice and keep your mouth shut.” Thomas snapped, his anger cracking his voice so that the whole room silenced in an instant. “I don’t ever want to hear you talking about Andrew Parker again. If you so much as mention his name in my presence, you will be fired on the spot. Do you understand me?” 

Peter nodded slowly, shock and embarrassment reddening his cheeks, Thomas caught hold of his breath and strode from the room. As he slammed the door, he heard Peter’s shaking voice. 

“Bloody hell, what’s up with Mr Barrow tonight then?” 

He didn’t care that they would all be discussing him and his private business. His heart was pounding in his ears and sweat trickling down the back of his neck. He knew he shouldn’t be surprised that Andy had disappeared, he had half expected something like it all day. Knowing that the blow was coming, did not prevent it from hurting any less. He would not break down again, he told himself. Even when he closed the door to his room and leant against it, he managed to hold everything in, although the pressure of it made his head feel like it was going to explode. He closed his eyes and let the darkness take the thoughts that wrestled within him. He breathed in the smell of his room. Tobacco smoke. Cologne. The starch on the bedsheets. Something else too, something masculine and vaguely familar. He opened his eyes.

“I shouldn’t be here but don’t get angry.” Andy stood up from the chair by Thomas’s bed where he had been sitting in the darkness. “I just needed some time to think, so I asked Peter to take care of my jobs for this afternoon. I told him not to tell you, so you wouldn’t worry. I came here an hour or so ago. I was hoping to catch you, so we could talk.”

“Let’s just get it over with then.” Thomas said weakly, loosening the buttons of his shirt and wiping the sweat from his forehead. “Have you written a letter giving me notice? I don’t need to read it. In fact, don’t bother even telling me. Just go now, and we’ll say nothing, just forget all about it.” 

“Have you gone daft or something?” Andy flicked on the lamp light so that Thomas could see that he was just wearing his undershirt and trousers. Despite everything, he felt the stirrings of desire at the sight of his chestthrough the thin material. Andy stepped towards him, puppy dog eyes blinking slowly, a smile on his lips. He reached out for Thomas’s hands, to pull them around his back. Thomas snatched them away.

“Come here. Hey, come here.” Andy whispered and he reached for Thomas’s hands once again. The tenderness made Thomas relent and allow his hands to be pulled around Andy. They were tightly embracing, so that he could feel all of his body. His arms were so much stronger and sturdier than he had remembered. He could feel his hot breath against his neck and his lips forming the whispers. “Trust me. You have to trust me. Say it.” 

“I trust you,” Thomas repeated obediently, slightly breathless now. 

“Don’t just say it. Mean it.” Andy grabbed hold of his hips and guided him to the emerging hardness between his own, “Say it again.”

“I trust you.”

“Trust in this.” Andy kissed him then, with all the urgent passion of the night before. He leaned into him so hard that they stumbled. The two of them and the chair clattered to the floor. Still, Andy refused to relinquish his kiss, He sat on Thomas’s middle and sucked his neck, ripping the buttons of his shirt. As he tugged at the belt buckle, Thomas caught hold of his fingers and squeezed them before pulling them away. 

“What’s the matter?” Andy sat upright so Thomas could see the sweat glistening on his forehead. Andy’s eyes were clouded with intense desire and he could see his chest panting fiercely under his shirt. 

“I thought we were taking things slow.” Thomas said between gasps for air. 

“We can take things slow later, can’t we?” Andy lifted an eyebrow, his fingers finding the belt buckle again, he leant down to kiss Thomas’s stomach on a downwards spiral. “You have to know how much I want you. You have to believe it.”

“I know.” Thomas took hold of his head and ran his fingers through Andy’s curls. “Can we go to bed? I need to enjoy you properly. I need to be close to you.” 

Without a word, Andy jumped to his feet and pulled Thomas by the hand towards the bed. Once there, it was Thomas who pushed Andy down against his pillows and thrust his tongue into Andy’s mouth. Clothes slipped to the floor as they both moved together now with the rhythm of their strengthening desire. 

***  
“Can I come in here tomorrow?” Andy asked in a whisper. He was leaning his head on Thomas’s chest. The moonlight that lit up the curtains on his open window made Andy’s curls look almost white and angel like. Thomas ran his hand through them as he had so often dreamt of doing, then let his fingers lazily travel down his neck and spine. “I can sneak back into my room just before dawn, before anyone can see.”

“You can come here every night.” Thomas said, disbelief slowing his words. “I can hold you just like this, every night,”

I wish we could be like the others.” Andy sighed against his chest and took hold of Thomas’s wandering hand and wrapped it around his shoulders. “I wish I could hold your hand in the servants hall, like Anna and Bates.”

“But for now, this is enough,” Thomas kissed the top of his head and squeezed his shoulders. “I thought you had gone for good today, Peter said as much earlier and that is why I was strange when I came in.”

“I thought it must be something like that. Peter threatened me last night but I don’t particularly want to talk about that smug little sod. I wouldn’t give you up, for him or anyone else.”

They were quiet then, watching the moonlight touch the furniture of the stark little room and enjoying the warmth of each other, until dawn came and they kissed tenderly before Andy slipped his undershirt and trousers back on and tiptoed back to his room.


	6. Chapter 6

The last time that Downton held a Garden Party in the grounds, their world had changed forever. Andy had not been in service then but a young child of eight, only concerned with fishing with his father and caring for the chickens on the farm that their parents owned on the outskirts of London. He did remember returning from play to find his Mother crying into her apron. When everyone spoke about the war it seemed like something far away that would never touch their quiet lives on the farm. He continued to collect frog spawn and make mud pies with his siblings, while his parents whispered with shadowed expressions. It was only when he saw his two older brothers in uniform that the events overseas finally invaded his childhood. Arthur was his favourite of his four elder brothers. He remembered being lifted up on to Arthur’s shoulders when he ran with his sisters to meet him as he finished up his work on the farm.. Frank, a year younger than Arthur, would take his sisters’ hands while Andy surveyed the world from above his eldest brother’s head. He could still feel Arthur’s suntanned hands holding his ankles as he tipped his head to the sky and imagined he was flying home.

Arthur and Frank didn’t return from the war. His Mother was never quite the same after their deaths. She was still her ruddy, jolly self and of course she was always full of love for them all. But she didn’t smile as much as she used to. He remembered his older brothers in their uniforms, how tall and powerful they had both seemed then. It was like his brothers had disappeared into thin air. The thought of it had always perplexed him; that young men so healthy and strong could just vanish like that. 

It was unsettling to think of Thomas wearing a uniform the same as Arthur and Frank. In the brief time Andy had known Thomas, he refrained from speaking about his time in the war. The others would sometimes converse about the subject but he would notice Thomas stiffening, a distance covering his eyes. Thomas would avoid direct questions and steer the conversation mostly to the time he spent at Downton in the safety of the hospital. Andy knew the time in the trenches was too painful to remember for him. He didn’t yet have the courage to ask him about it but,he often wondered what Thomas had been through, especially now that Downton was in the midst of a garden party in the heat of the summer once again. Perhaps it stirred memories for all of them, as most of the servants were oddly quiet and brooding for a party. The family upstairs, however, seemed unconcerned by the memories the party must have recalled.

Andy was supposed to be topping up the jugs of lemonade but he couldn’t help pausing in his work to watch the ladies upstairs drift about the grass in their long, floating dresses. Lady Mary was on the arm of her husband, laughing loudly and forcing herself into the centre of attention as usual. George, Sybbie and Marigold played quietly with the nanny close by while newborn baby Violet slept soundly under the hood of her pram. Lady Edith was resting her hand on her bulging baby bump while Bertie fussed over her endlessly and party guests exclaimed at her blooming condition. Usually, Andy would roll his eyes to himself at their ignorance but he must have been feeling particularly charitable towards them all that day, as he felt a new warmth for them, so blissful in their bubble. 

Behind him at the cake stand, he could hear Betsy the new maid sighing dramatically and muttering obscenities. She was a tiny scrap of a thing just out of school. Her black hair was scraped into a scraggly bun and her face hidden behind bursts of reddening acne. Andy had little to do with her so far, seeing her mostly following Peter around with huge star struck eyes and complaining about her endless list of duties. She harboured the resentment for the family upstairs that he and the rest of his staff had to come to terms with. He remembered talking through his anger with Thomas the night before when he had crept into his bedroom again. 

“I can’t tell you how much I used to despise them all.” Thomas had told him through his cloud of cigarette smoke, as they lay together in his room. Thomas was lying with one elbow bent below his head, while Andy pressed his lips against his shoulder and listened eagerly, his arm hugging Thomas’s waist. “I hated their bloody money. Everything seemed easier for them. I used to lie awake and plot how to get rich and give them a taste of their own medicine. I thought I hated them, but I hated myself more. I was supposed to do something with my life, not waste it waiting on spoilt brats.”

“Yeah, I spend most of my time when I’m standing there, listening to their stupid conversations, answering back to them in my head.”

“Don’t do that, Andy.” Thomas gave such a long and heavy sigh that Andy squeezed him tighter. “You will end up like Peter. You think he is a bastard, don’t you? Well, I was twice as bad as him, back in the day. I was so full of hate. Anna was the one who helped me let it go. You have to do it, or it will eat you up inside.” 

Andrew realized he was smiling at the memory of the previous night. Being so close to Thomas in his room, feeling his body against his in the darkness, sent warm shivers through his spine so that he rattled the lemonade jugs in his hands. He looked behind him at the cake stand, to see if Betsy and Anna noticed, but Anna was too busy scolding Betsy for her impudence.\

It wasn’t just his and Thomas’s hunger for each other’s bodies that made the smile linger on his lips, The moments afterwards were, in some ways, more important to him. Those moments when they would hold each other for hours without moving, yet still awake. He would lie there sometimes, feeling Thomas’s heart beat under the palm of his hand, the steady thrum would lead him safely into dreams. Then there was the way they spoke to each other. Thomas would unfurl memories and secrets as the cigarettes piled into the ashtray and the minutes ticked by on the old fashioned looking antique clock that he kept on his drawers. He had asked Thomas to trust him, and he knew it was going to be slow, but it was happening, he could feel it. 

“Well, at least you look happy.” He felt a tap on his arm and turned to see Daisy, wearing her best pink dress and holding a plate of jam tarts. “Mrs Patmore said I could bring these up and join the party but it hardly seems worth it now, does it? Everyone looks so miserable, don’t they?”

“I don’t know. Lady Mary seems to be having a grand time of it, from the look of her. That’s her fourth glass of wine and it’s only three o clock.” He glanced sideways at his friend and saw that her eyes were red rimmed. “This must be hard for you. You must be thinking of William.”

“Not really.” She blushed and her hand flew to her mouth. “I mean, I am, of course I am. Only, I was chopping onions in the kitchen earlier and I always get awful onion tears. That’s why Mrs Patmore sent me up here, I think. I saw you standing there just then, smiling away. It was nice to see that, when everyone else is so down in the dumps. What were you smiling about then?” 

He glanced at her and for a moment considered telling her exactly what he had been smiling about. He had been dying to tell somebody and he knew that she would listen and understand. That was the thing about Daisy. She would say such silly things that made you roll your eyes and wonder why you ever liked her to begin with, then she would shock you with a sudden moment of pure compassion. He stroked his cheek thoughtfully, wondering how on earth to begin, when he noticed she had her hand to her mouth again, only this time she was giggling, 

“What’s so funny?” 

“Nothing. It’s just…” She shook her head and turned away, shoulders shaking, finally turning back when the giggles had subsided. “You might want to move your collar up a bit. I wouldn’t say anything, but I’m sure you wouldn’t want anyone to see. There’s something on your neck.”

Andy felt the blush spreading all over his body as he caught her meaning and quickly pulled up his collar, hiding the evidence of the night before with Thomas. He hastily began arranging the lemons, unable to look again at Daisy, who would now and again let out another stifled giggle. His hands were quivering in embarrassment so that one of the lemons slipped from his hands and he had to crawl under the table cloth to retrieve it. The shade there was comforting to his heated cheeks and for a second, he considered staying there, but he saw Daisy’s boots tapping impatiently. He hastily clambered to his feet, his great height causing him to bump his head on the lemonade table. He rubbed and tipped his head shyly, but Daisy gave him a smile of kindness.

“Here, put these in your pocket quickly.” She took two jam tarts from the plate and shoved them covertly into his hands. “One for you and one for Mr Barrow. It’s alright, you know. I know why you were smiling now, at least. I am glad someone made you smile like that.” 

She gave him a peck on the cheek and hurried away with her plate of jam tarts balanced in one hand. He watched her go, grinning and shaking his head, then started when he turned and saw Peter standing just behind him. Peter had been watching Daisy walk away too but now he glared at Andy.

“You were supposed to be leaving.” He said gruffly, rolling a lemon under his fingers. “Have you handed in your notice?”

“No.” Andy glowered at him in return. “I don’t intend to either.” 

“Do you want me to take Christopher Flyte’s letters to Mr Barrow? He goes into great detail about your past employment and Mr Barrow will have to take it seriously.” 

“Go on, take it to him then. See what Mr Barrow has to say about your letters.” He lifted his eyebrows at him daringly.

“Do you think you have got him on side?” Peter stepped closer to Andy, so he could smell the cigarettes and overwhelming odour of his cologne. “You are sick. I knew you were a nancy boy but I didn’t think you would stoop so low. Well, don’t think cosying up with the butler is going to save you. Mr Barrow only has a tenuous grip over the staff anyway. Everyone was saying the other night, how he could never fill Carson’s shoes. Who is gonna listen to an old pervert like that now?” 

“You better watch it…” Andy felt the anger boiling up inside of him as he grabbed hold of Peter’s neck and shook him. He caught hold of himself just in time and released his choking grip. He took a quick look around to check that nobody had seen, but the majority of the upstairs family and their guests had moved to the other side of the field for an impromptu cricket match. Behind him, Anna had her back turned as she chatted with the nanny. He turned back to Peter, who was rubbing his neck and coughing. “You have got a big mouth and you better shut it now. I’m warning you.” 

“Why, what are you going to do? Tell tales to your butler?” Peter asked breathlessly. He straightened and stroked his neck, then stepped close to Andy once again. “Betsy the maid was talking the other night, after your sweetheart ran off into the bedrooms looking for you. She said that she saw scars on Mr Barrow’s wrists when he was washing his hands. Do you really think a coward like that will stand up for you? Betsy said he was a coward in the war too. Spent most of it hiding out here, didn’t he? Maybe he will do us all the favour the next time he takes a bath and finish the job.” 

Later, Andy could not recall the moment that his fist connected with Peter’s face. He could just remember the gush of rage that sped through his body and made his eyes bulge. He remembered too the blood that spurted from Peter’s nose and splattered down his uniform. He remembered Anna, the nanny and Betsy the maid screaming and running over the two of them. Betsy comforted Peter and used her handkerchief to stem the flow of blood. Anna grabbed hold of Andy’s elbow and pulled him back like a child who had been misbehaving.

“What on earth is all this?” Anna looked at him incredulously. She glanced over at the cricket match, which still continued undisturbed with a round of claps and cheers. “What is wrong with you? You better take ten minutes to calm down and sort yourself out. I’ll watch the lemonade. Betsy, please take Peter inside and clean him up before anyone sees this mess.” 

“You better do something about him.” Peter called to nobody in particular, his voice thick from his bloody nose. “He’s getting worse.” 

***  
]  
Thomas had just finished playing in the cricket match. He had removed his jacket for the occasion so that he was just in his white shirt.Y The leaves from the tree he and Andy were standing under were making moving patterns upon it as the sun filtered through. Luckily, the cricket match had been nearly done by the time Andy approached, so that he had been able to catch his attention straight away. When Andy first caught him, he was still grinning from the easy win that his team had accomplished, tossing the ball up and down with one hand. As Andy began to recount what had just happened with Peter, the smile melted from his face and he held the ball tightly. 

“You must be joking.” The tops of his cheeks grew red and Andy hung his head. “This is going to put me in a damn tricky situation if someone reports it to me. You know I can’t be shown to be giving you special treatment. Bloody hell, Andy, something like this can end in an instant dismissal. Why did you do something so bloody stupid?” 

“I don’t know. You know what he’s like, he was saying things. I just snapped. I don’t expect you to protect me.” 

“Of course I will do everything to protect you, I just don’t know what that is just yet.” Thomas rubbed the bridge of his nose, as was his habit when he was under strain. “What was he saying anyway?” 

“Nothing.” Andy sniffed and averted his eyes. When Thomas continued to watch him thoughtfully, he shrugged his shoulders. “You know, just the usual claptrap. Anyway, he’s guessed about you and me. He knew about Johnny so it doesn’t take a genius. I’m really sorry. I can’t believe I was such an idiot. What is going to happen now?” 

“Nothing, for the moment.” Thomas sighed. “We have to wait and see whether Peter decides to report this to me. Knowing him, he will. But I told you I’ve had my eye on him. I was biding my time but this might just speed things up a little.” Seeing Andy’s worried frown, he reached across and discretely touched the small of his back. “Don’t worry, I said I would protect you and I will. Just keep your bloody fists to yourself from now on, alright?”

“I don’t want to get you into any trouble.” Andy caught hold of the hand behind his back and squeezed it before Thomas let go and they began to head back towards the rest of the party. “If it comes down to it and you have to fire me, then you must do it and keep your position. I don’t want any of this to make you look bad.” 

“I told you to stop worrying, didn’t I?” Thomas squeezed his shoulder softly. “Go back to your work and don’t think about it any more. Leave it all with me. I will sort it, I promise.” 

“But what if you can’t…?” Andy half-whispered to Thomas’s back as he hurried back to the crowd. Thomas didn’t hear him and he disappeared amongst the people of the party. Andy made his way back to the lemonade table, heart hammering in his chest.


	7. Chapter 7

_Dear Mr Thomas Barrow,_

_Thank you for your letter enquiring about the time that Peter Roberts was employed here at Chantworth Hall. Indeed, I was not surprised when your letter landed on my desk; in fact, the only surprise was that your query had not come sooner. I was informed through the grapevine that our former footman was amongst your employ, and knowing what a distinguished household Downton has always been, I expected to hear from you in due course and I had already composed and written my reply. I understand it was your predecessor, a Mr Charles Carson, who appointed Mr Roberts in his role. I do wish that he had contacted me as I would have saved you all much distress._

_Peter was only with us here at Chantworth for five months yet in that time he managed to steal from above and below stairs, selling jewellery and books that he purloined for money that he sent to his family. He made a friend of another member of staff, a Mr Christopher Flyte, and the two of them worked as a partnership, both stealing and bullying some of the younger hallboys and maids. When the identity of the thieves was discovered, Christopher Flyte was dismissed instantly. I already had more than I could stomach of that particular specimen, and to be truthful the excuse to finally be rid of him was gratifying for all involved._

_As for Mr Peter Roberts, I was keen to be rid of him too of course. I did however allow him to stay while he found another position of employment, This was only because of his family situation. I am not sure if you are aware of the particulars of this, Mr Barrow, but I was persuaded to take on Peter by a blacksmith in the village who had the boy as his apprentice. This particular gentleman in a good friend of mine and he told me about the boy’s history. The family were in the workhouse since Peter was a very young child. He has an older brother who from all accounts is crippled and backwards, and the mother is a drinker. I was hoping to make a good footman out of the boy and indeed he was a fine worker and very popular amongst the ladies upstairs, yet very easily led and somewhat sly._

_Peter went on to another position in a, shall we say, slightly lower class house than ours and I thought that this position would suit him. It was only when I heard that he was working as a footman at Downton that I began to worry. It crossed my mind several times that he had perhaps lied about his time here in order to gain his new position, so it is relief to be able to put these matters straight with you._

_It is, of course, your decision what you wish to do with the information I have shared. In my own opinion, Peter was always a good worker when out of the reach of Mr Flyte’s dark influence. He sent the money he stole to his Mother, to provide for the aforementioned brother. There is never any excuse for theft of course, but these things are worth thinking about when considering the young man’s future._

_Kind Regards,_

_Mr E. Pousher, Butler of Chantworth Hall._

Thomas watched Mrs Hughes digest the letter he had received that morning, while sipping the much too sweet tea that Daisy had made for him. he had hoped that the tea would ease the sore throat that had been plaguing him since the end of the cricket match that afternoon. If anything, it made the pain worse and he coughed as his throat scratched with every swallow. They were in the servants hall, that was uncharacteristically quiet despite the garden party of the afternoon. Betsy, Anna and a few of the other maids and hallboys had attempted to start up a song at the piano but arguments were escalating over what they should sing. Everybody else was sitting in small groups holding whispered conversations with sombre expressions. When he and Mrs Hughes first took their seats at the fireplace for their nightly cup of tea, before Mrs Hughes set off back to the cottage and her husband, he had remarked that it was as if someone had recently died. Mrs Hughes sniffed and brushed away his comment, saying that perhaps everyone was just tired from the exertions of the garden party. 

 

He pulled the corners of his mouth down in disgust at the sickly tea and peered around the room in suspicion at the muttering staff. Perhaps Mrs Hughes was right that the extra work of the party had garnered an exhaustion and malaise amongst them all but there was something else too, he was sure of it, something foreboding, as if they were waiting for something. He looked over the gathered heads and chewed his bottom lip in worry, he still couldn’t see Andy in their midst, In fact, he had not seen him since the exchange they had under the trees at the party. He assumed that he must be in the kitchen with Daisy and Peter. 

“It is muddle, to be sure.” Mrs Hughes had folded the letter and handed it back to him. Her forehead wore furrows of deep concentration as she mulled over the words in the butler’s letter. “What’s to be done? I could ask Charles for his advice this evening.” 

“It was your advice I was after.” Thomas gave her a warm smile that he hoped would convey how much he appreciated the little evening chats they had been having, when they dissected the characters of various staff members and gossiped over the goings on upstairs. “I’m going to fire that smug little git first thing in the morning. Shall I mention the letter or make up an exuse? The worst thing is that he’s actually a really good footman.”

“You will have to talk about the letter as it is your only proof he has been involved with the thieving. We all know it was him alright, but you can’t just go firing people without basis, as much as sometimes we would like to.” She sipped her own tea and adjusted herself on the hard backed seat, “I would keep quiet about the lad’s history. Such a sad story. But it’s no excuse for stealing, I know. Lord knows why that husband of mine hired him without a full reference. Well, his mind was on other things at the time. This is certainly enough to fire him with. It was clever of you to write and enquire.” She shook her head laughing. "You know, sometimes Peter reminds me of you when you were young.”

“Really?” Thomas shuddered and hung his head. “I wasn’t that bad, was I?”

“Of course not. You wouldn't be here as butler if you had been. You did need your ears boxing a few times if I remember right. The difference being that you have a head on your shoulders and something of a heart, not that it always shows.”

Thomas opened his mouth to make some sarcastic comment but the scratch in his throat pulled tight so that all he could manage was a violent cough. Mrs Hughes regarded him with concern, handing him his tea to wet his dry throat. "Are you quite alright, Thomas?" She asked, looking him over from head to toe. "I thought you looked a bit pale and peaky earlier at the cricket match. Perhaps you would be better off getting an early night and resting yourself."

"I'm fine, don't fuss over me." He growled, still catching his breath. "I think I am coming down with a cold or something."r

He tried to swallow away the pain in throat and searched the room with his eyes for Andy. His absence had become even more conspicuous now that Peter and some of the hallboys had emerged from the kitchen talking animatedly. The half hearted singing group had been disbanded and someone must have suggested a game of cards but there wasn't many volunteers. Everyone seemed content to sit in their small groups and watch the rain clouds begin to thicken in the early evening sky. Thomas spied the door to the yard and following his hunch, made his excuses to Mrs Hughes and slipped outside into the cooling air. 

He had guessed that he would find Andy out here, sitting on a crate and running his long fingers through the fur of the still wounded cat, who was hunched in his lap purring and half closing his eyes. Thomas hesitated at the doorway as Andy still gazed thoughtfully into the murky coloured sky. Seeing Andy and how beautifully attractive he was with his sprawled long limbs and sleepy eyes, jolted him, followed by something akin to shame. The memory of Andy trembling under his own travelling touch, the way he clung to the bars of Thomas’s iron bedstead as Thomas had dipped his head beneath the sheets and headed for his waist. He had felt the deep moans that Andy suppressed shuddering through his body as his hands clenched the bars tightly. He could hardly believe that had happened just the night before, he head really produced the sheen of sweat that had covered him and afterwards the gasping whispers, the way Andy would guide him upwards and into his arms again, so that they could just press against each other as they caught their breath. 

It still felt like a dream he couldn’t shake from his mind. He half expected Andy to turn and laugh at him,as he stood there in the doorway watching a few seconds longer. But when Thomas coughed and Andy turned to glance in his direction, a smile lit Andy's eyes and his whole face shone, like it always did. He placed the saucer of meat that he had been keeping on the crate beside him on the ground, so the cat bounded down and there was room for Thomas to sit next to him. Andy beckoned him, but he shook his head and shivered.

“I’m not coming anywhere near that thing. It’ll have my hand off for what I did to it the other day.”

“He won’t hold a grudge. If you sit next to me and stroke him, he will probably jump into your lap.” 

“I doubt it.” Thomas shivered and coughed, rubbed the bridge of his nose as the headache that had been hovering for the last couple of hours intensified. He blinked a few times and edged towards the crate and Andy, eyeing the sky in trepidation. “It’s going to chuck it down with rain, you know. If I catch a cold, I’m blaming you, I already feel like I’m coming down with something.” 

“Those won’t help your cough.” Andy nodded at his cigarettes as Thomas pulled them out of his pocket, still coughing, seeing Andy’s disapproving frown, he returned them. Andy leaned past Thomas to peer through the door to the servants hall. Seeing that everyone was gathered around the table in deep conversation, he slipped his arm around Thomas’s shoulders and pulled him closer. They huddled together and Thomas breathed in the smell of him once more, the soothing nearness of him easing the aching in his limbs. “Any warmer?” Andy whispered, flashing his slow smile for a few seconds as they watched the cat devour the food on the plate. “Has Peter been telling tales to you yet?"

“Not yet, but something is brewing in there.” Thomas said, his voice hoarse and catching. He leaned in a little closer to Andy, resting his aching head against his shoulder as Andy’s fingers now stroked his arm in soothing rhythmic movements, like he had the cat. “Can we forget about that for a bit? I wanted to talk to you about something.” 

“Me too.” He felt Andy’s chest stiffen as he tensed. “I don’t want you to stand up for me if it jeopardises the respect the staff have for you. I’ve seen how hard you have worked and I won’t let you throw it away for a daft idiot like me.” 

“You’re my daft idiot though.” Thomas smiled, gently kissing his neck.

“No, you have to listen, I mean it. I shouldn’t have smacked Peter before. It was wrong. If it comes down to it, put your career first.” 

“I told you not to worry about it. I was going to ask you..” He paused to cough violently while Andy rubbed his back. “… I arranged for us to have our halfday off together tomorrow and I thought we should do something together. We could get the bus to Scarborough. There is an inn on the sea front where we could have dinner. You remember I said I wanted to do this right? I know it sounds silly, but I would like for us to go courting, you know.” He hid his blush against Andy’s shoulder. 

“I never knew you were such an old romantic.” Andy laughed, but his cheeks were colouring too. “Yes, I would really like that a lot. I’ve never been to the seaside. But only if you’re feeling better tomorrow, alright?” 

“I’ll be feeling better.” Thomas said determinedly. They sat quietly for a few moments. Andy took hold of Thomas’s hand and stroked it gently. Andy was a bit of a fidget, Thomas had noticed. When they lay still together he would always be twirling strands of Thomas’s hair restlessly and his hands were constantly busy. Now he fingered the lines of the scars on Thomas's wrists, paused, and reached up to feel his cheeks and head. 

“Bloody hell, you’re burning up like a furnace. Let’s go inside before it rains. I think you should go straight to bed and we’ll see each other in the morning.”

“No, come to my room again tonight.” Thomas said throatily, squeezing his hand. “I want to go to sleep next to you.”

“Alright.” Andy conceded, bringing Thomas’s hot hands to his mouth and kissing them. “My Mum sent me some cherry brandy last time I had grippe and that helped me. I’ll bring that with me after everyone has gone to bed. Nothing more strenuous than cuddling, mind. I’ll bring that new book you gave me and you can listen to me read. That really will send you to sleep.”

Thomas smiled through his next coughing fit as they both got to their feet and the first icy drops of rain began to splatter from the sky. The cat sniffed the air and bolted into the shadows, seeking shelter from the coming storm. Thomas didn’t realize he was still holding Andy’s hand. The dark night was swaying in the dizzy haze of his fever and it made him stumble slightly, as the burning pain in his throat spread deeper into his chest. Andy was hurrying to get him out of the rain that now began to pelt against the wooden crates, so they didn’t catch sight of Mrs Hughes in the doorway until it was too late. They saw her frown as she took in their clasped hands and Andy quickly pulled his hand away, but Thomas reached for it again as another bout of coughing took hold. 

“Come out of that rain now, you pair of lunatics.” She scolded, her brow furrowed in deep anger. “What on earth were you thinking, Andy? Keeping Mr Barrow out in the cold? Now, you must come in the both of you. There has been a bit of a to do I’m afraid. You go straight up to bed, Mr Barrow, but Andy, you must come and talk to the others at once.” 

As they followed her back into the warmth of the hall, the rain strengthened in intensity and the sky groaned with thunder.


	8. Chapter 8

The storm had long since abated for the night but Andy could still feel the buzz of electric current in the air as he sat in the first light, hunched forward. He held his hands clasped between his knees and his shirt sleeves rolled up, so that he could feel the early morning chill on his arms. If he ever had the inclination to smoke now would be the time that he would draw the cigarette to his lips and suck up something familiar. He had watched Thomas smoke many times with a confused fascination, wondering why something that was, frankly, so dirty and unhealthy could appear so sophisticatedly attractive. Maybe it was the way Thomas himself smoked; it visibly calmed him so that his limbs slackened and his head tilted. He appeared full of determined confidence, like a cat stalking it’s prey. 

Andy had the hazy, slightly unreal feeling of one who had been awake all night hanging over his head. He remembered as a child when he and his siblings would compete to stay awake the whole night through, without their Mother ever suspecting. Andy always secretly let his brother win, because the thought of lying alone in that room with only the sound of their distant breathing for company was too terrifying to contemplate. He had always been scared of being alone. His house had been a noisy one, the sound of competing children’s voices, scolding parents and various animals kept the silence at bay. It was only the last few months, since meeting Thomas, he realized that despite all that noise and chaos, he always had been alone. He just needed the hubbub around him to distract him from the knowledge of that fact. 

Just then, as he watched daybreak begin to filter through the clouds, he felt intensely lonely and homesick. He hadn’t felt such a strong, sickening urge to be at home with his Mother since the early days at Chantworth Hall as a hallboy, before Johnny had taken him under his wing. He could walk out of the grounds right now, he thought to himself, walk until he reached the village and then he could go to the train station and find some way of getting home. He could leave them all without a backward glance. All except Thomas, of course. Thomas, who had asked him to come and sleep beside him so that they could banish that horrible fear of being alone. The same horrible hole at the centre of him he had felt throughout his life, he had seen in reflected in Thomas’s eyes. 

He leaned back against the wall and squeezed his eyes shut as if in pain. He imagined what would happen if he did up and leave that morning. His home wasn’t even his any more. After his Father passed away, not long after the war, his Mother had been forced to sell up their farm and they all headed into the big smoke of London, where one by one they all went into service. Perhaps he could travel to the small room in the boarding house where his Mother was living now. Perhaps she would hug him tightly and be genuinely pleased to see him, but then the questions would come. His Mother was quiet and thoughtful, she would never openly criticize him but he would see it in her eyes anyway. He would never live up to those brothers of his in their uniforms. Those brothers who were clever and handsome, who had girls they were going to marry and grandchildren that would now never be born. 

He bashed his head hard against the brick wall behind him and tried to focus his thoughts. He knew he wasn’t going anywhere. Thomas was terribly sick and he would never leave him. He had insisted on accompanying him up to his room the night before, when they returned from the first rainfall of the storm into the servants hall. Peter had just about leapt a mile out of his chair when he saw the two of them. His face remained serious but there was a ghost of a grin hiding behind his eyes. 

“There he is. Thomas, we have found the culprit, the one who has been all the jewellery. Daisy lost her...” 

“Mr Barrow is not feeling well.” Mrs Hughes said tersely interrupting Peter’s speech. “He will go straight to bed. I think it is the best idea that we all do the same and leave this matter for the morning.” 

“You can’t just leave him to get away with it.” Betsy cried, folding her arms in defiance. “Poor Daisy has just about broke her heart with crying and just look at our Peter’s eye, all battered and bloody like he’s done ten rounds in the boxing ring...” 

“Don’t exaggerate, Betsy.” Anna rolled her eyes but she didn’t look in Andy’s direction. “Let Mr Barrow get to bed and we can let Andy answer to all of this himself.” 

 

Andy glanced at Thomas then; he was watching the faces of each person speaking to him but it was clear that he was slightly out of kilter, as if seeing their lips moving but not the words that were actually said. The sweat was standing out now on his forehead and Andy wasn’t sure if it was just him or a trick of the light, but he was sure that Thomas’s lips looked a little blue. When Andy squeezed his elbow, he leant into his side heavily, as if he might topple over if Andy hadn’t been there to support him. His cough returned, and they all looked at each other worriedly. Even Peter dropped his aggressive stance and turned away. 

“I am going to help Mr Barrow upstairs to bed.” Andy said with intent, his voice strong and firm despite the accusing glares of most of the gathered staff. “I’ll come back down after and you can all have a go at me then.” 

“I’ll come and help you.” Phyllis Baxter stepped out from behind Mr Bates’ wide back. She took hold of Thomas’s other elbow and together they propelled him out of the room and up the stairs. 

“We should open the windows and strip him down.” Andy told her when they had reached Thomas’s room and guided him to his bed. He began to prop up Thomas’s pillows to ease his cough while he slept and removed the blankets in case Thomas wrapped them around himself in the night and became too hot. He removed Thomas’s jacket and began to undo his buttons while Phyllis pushed the windows wide and lit the lamp. Uncharacteristically compliant, Thomas allowed them to help him and took the drink of water that Andy pressed to his lips when he coughed. When Phyllis turned on the light, they could see Thomas’s eyes, glazed in fever and exhaustion, and his chest rapidly moving up and down. Phyllis turned to look at him, remaining silent as Andy removed Thomas’s trousers and laid him on his side against the pillows. She couldn’t hide the alarm from her face. 

“I think we should call the doctor first thing in the morning.” She said quietly. “Perhaps he will feel better after a good night’s rest, but he really doesn’t look like himself.” 

“I know.” Andy sat down on the bed and waited while Thomas struggled through another long coughing fit. He looked across at Phyllis again. “Can we call him sooner than that?” 

Wheezing now, Thomas pointed to the glass of water and Andy handed it across to him. He knew that Phyllis was still watching them, but he couldn’t help but reach across and brush the sweat drenched hair from his eyes. Thomas caught hold of his hand and squeezed it. “Stay for a bit, will you?” He whispered.

Andy nodded and told Thomas to lay back on the pillows as he joined Phyllis by the door. 

“His cough is getting worse. Could we go and phone for Doctor Clarkson ourselves?”

“Mrs Crawley would have to be told first and that would have to come from Thomas or Mrs Hughes.” Phyllis paused and folded her arms, he could see the thoughts rushing around in her mind. “Perhaps I could go and fetch Mrs Hughes? If she has another look at him in the light, she might call for Doctor Clarkson.” 

“What are you two mumbling about over there?” Thomas called woozily from the bed, speaking through closed eyes as he fought the sleep that was hovering all about him. “Are you coming in here with me, Andy?”

Andy started and gritted his teeth in tension, but if Phyllis had heard Thomas, she didn’t remark upon it. She approached the bed again and reached across to feel his forehead like a child. Thomas pushed her hand away and mumbled something incoherent but probably not pleasant. 

“He is still red hot but his fever has gone down a little. You knew just what to do. You must have some experience of fevers like this?”

“Not really.” Andy shrugged, “I have a lot of brothers and sisters. One or other of us was always sickening for something. Never this sick though.”

“I had a lot of brothers and sisters too.” She said, smiling again and recrossing her arms. “I wouldn’t worry too much about this one. I’ve known him since he was a baby. He is much stronger than he looks.” 

“You knew him when he was young?” 

“Oh, very naughty and cheeky, not much changes.” She tittered softly, her eyes sparkling with fond memories. “He is the only boy and has three older sisters. When I used to visit my friend, we used to delight in dressing him up and brushing his baby hair. He was always smiling. Then, as he got older, something changed, he got sad. But, you know, just recently he’s been very happy again. I think maybe I know why.” She smiled at him again and squeezed his arm while Thomas began muttering sleepily once more. “I will go and fetch Mrs Hughes and maybe take a leisurely stroll down the steps. She’ll want you to go straight down, so stay with Thomas a little. For what it is worth, that Peter is a viper and I don’t believe a word that he says.”

There was something in her eyes as she spoke and the way she offered to loiter so that he could have a few moments alone with Thomas, that made him suspect that she may know the truth about their relationship. The thought prickled at his spine with worry and embarrassment but he shook his head and pushed the thoughts to one side. If she did know, she clearly didn’t mind. Even if she did, what could he do about it now? He had so much more to worry about.

He approached Thomas’s bed slowly, a little reluctant to get too close after the way Phyllis had her hand batted away earlier. But as soon as he reached out his hand, Thomas pulled him in close and snuggled against him. Within seconds of Andy delicately stroking his hair and kissing his ear, he knew Thomas had fallen asleep because his breathing turned to light snores. Andy held him tightly, wishing he could stay there and avoid whatever was waiting for him back downstairs. All too soon, there was a firm knock on the door, and Mrs Hughes strode into the room, followed by Miss Baxter who hung back a little. Luckily, he managed to spring out of Thomas’s grip before Mrs Hughes saw them, but her thunderous expression showed that she had seen him make a swift movement when she entered.

“You must go downstairs now, Andrew.” She said, wearing the hard mask that always immersed her face when she had to scold one of the staff. “Everyone is waiting and it is getting very late. You cannot skulk about in here when Mr Barrow is ill.” 

“I’m not hiding.” He retorted, meeting her eyes brazenly. “I want to make sure that Thomas is alright and that you are going to phone for Doctor Clarkson.” 

“I will do no such thing until I have good reason to.” She shook her head. “Mr Barrow has a fever and is probably coming down with influenza. I have seen this many times and if I called for Doctor Clarkson every time one of my staff was a little under the weather the poor man would be harried off his feet coming backwards and forwards. We shall leave Mr Barrow to get the sleep he needs and by the morning he will be well.”

“But...”

“No more answering back. You will not use Mr Barrow’s sickness as an excuse to shirk away questions that have arisen about your behaviour. Go downstairs and talk with the others and we will discuss this tomorrow.”

***

In the yard, the birds were beginning to chatter and sing among themselves as dawn broke and Andy still sat awake on the crate, leaning against the wall. His head kept nodding and the world swaying as the exhaustion of a night without sleep pressed it’s heavy weight upon him. Everything appeared slightly out of focus and unreal, like a dream that kept losing the thread of it’s story and dipping through scenes of confusion. He swallowed down the dry feeling in his throat and thought again of the stern tone Mrs Hughes had used with him. 

He knew that her sharpness had less to do with him answering back and more to do with her catching sight of he and Thomas holding hands earlier. He felt a little shocked and hurt; Thomas had confided in him that the one person who he felt understood Thomas's particular situation had always been Mrs Hughes. Andy himself had reasoned that she was the one who would be most likely to accept the love that they had for each other. She was always so knowing and philosophical about everything, particularly matters of the heart, he had assumed she would take it in her stride and maybe even support them along the way. But he had felt her cold rigidity when they spoke in the bedroom. He had always tried so hard to be respectful to her and it hurt him deeply that she looked at him with such disdain.

Still, it had been nothing to the looks he had received when he returned downstairs. As he had made the unusually long journey down the staircase from Thomas's room, he remembered taking the walk to the front of the classroom with his slate as a child. There would be indecipherable scribbles in chalk on the blackboard for him to copy. As he shuffled to the front, head bowed, the sweat would break out on his forehead and under his arms as his stomach twisted. The other children would all be watching with restrained laughter and ridicule, and he remembered with a shudder the narrowed eyes of his stern schoolmaster, who would witness his walk to the front over his thick eyeglasses, brow knotted and mouth slightly open with a trail of spit stretching between his lips. Before he reached the blackboard, he could already hear the schoolmaster taunting and insulting him. At least a lash of the cane would be quick, he had no idea how long this ordeal he was now facing would last, or what the ramifications of it would be. 

When he entered the hall, the gathered staff all turned to look at him with familiar grave expressions. Daisy, who had been drinking tea and pressing a handkerchief to her moistened eyes, left Anna and the reassuring hand on her arm, to rush to Andy, her eyes open wide with confusion.

“You didn’t really take it, did you?” She asked him with a high pitched, plaintive cry. Her voice struggling with the next outburst of tears. “You didn’t take my wedding ring? Please tell me you didn’t.” 

“Daisy, I have no idea what you are talking about.” He took hold of her little hands that were shaking violently and looked into her eyes with honesty. “I would never take anything from you. You must know that.” 

“Why did we find it in the trunk under your bed then?” Peter spoke up from behind Daisy, his eyes glowering beneath his bruise. “Along with all the other missing jewellery? I always knew you were a low down, snide little thief, now we have the proof.”

“You do have some questions to answer.” John Bates spoke up. “But we can’t do anything about this until Barrow is well.” 

“I think he should be fired on the spot.” Betsy spat in her twopenny worth, her frown emphasising the exploding acne on her face. “You do know that he was the one who hit our Pete and gave him that awful bruise. I saw him and Anna did too, didn’t you?”

“Did you, Anna? Is it true?” Daisy asked Anna, looking from Peter’s swollen face to Andy’s hung head. “You wouldn’t do that, would you?” 

“I did see it happen.” Anna admitted uncomfortably. “But I really think we should report all of this to Mr Barrow in the morning. This isn’t helping anyone.”   
I  
“I agree.” Mrs Hughes appeared in the doorway behind Andy’s shoulder. “Let me tell you all that I don't believe for a second Andy took that ring or anything else for that matter. If I hear any more gossiping, I'll clip all of your ears. Whatever you thought you were doing, searching through a young man's room without permission is beyond me. Everything will be well in the morning. Everyone, bed now, I think we have had enough hysteria for one night.” 

As chairs drew back and everyone rushed to obey Mrs Hughes orders, Andy turned to catch her eye gratefully but she frowned and looked away.

“Mrs Hughes, I really do think we ought to call Doctor Clarkson about Thomas. If he is no better in the morning..,.”

“Andy, I think you have slightly bigger things to be worrying about than Thomas’s cold.” She sighed and barged past him to head into the kitchen. “I know you had nothing to do with Daisy’s ring or the other jewellery, but there was no excuse to hit Peter.Thomas led me to believe you had more sense than that.”

 

Andy ran over the events of the evening in his mind for the hundredth time. He had helped to tidy up the servants hall and retired to bed like the others, but he hadn’t even attempted to sleep, knowing that with a mind so busy it would be futile. Instead he paced the room restlessly and kept a vigil on Thomas. He didn’t quite dare to sleep in Thomas’s room that night. He kept hearing staff members pottering about and whispering. Mrs Hughes had stayed overnight at the abbey as it had been too late to make the journey back to the cottage and he noticed that Thomas’s water had been topped up on one of his stolen visits, so he didn’t want to risk getting caught in there. 

After seeing Thomas the last time, when he had found him struggling for breath and scared, Andy decided to retreat outside into the yard for a break. The turmoil of the night was beginning to catch up with him now and he felt sleep tugging harder at his eyes. He drew his legs up on to the crate and rested his head on his knees, closing his eyes for just a few seconds. He felt he might drift off when an urgent cry interrupted his rest. He shook himself awake as the piteous wail became louder and found the cat sitting at his feet. He was meowing desperately, eyes wide as if fearful. He chucked some of the bits of chicken he had saved in his pocket in his direction, but he just kept up the awful noise. 

Andy gave the cat a gentle stroke and eventually it stopped crying but it’s body was rigid and it wouldn’t settle at all. Andy let sleep come for him then, curling on his side like a child and surrendering to the darkness. He dreamt of the cat, fuelled no doubt by more relentless mewing, he dreamt that he kept following the cat as it ran always just out of his reach. Further and further he followed it into misty darkness, realizing he was going round in circles but unable to stop. 

“Andy… Andy..!” Rough hands were shaking him. He opened his eyes and saw that the sun was fully up now and there were sounds of dishes rattling from the kitchen, and servants laughing in the hall. He looked up and saw Peter shaking him. He pushed him away and tensed defensively. Peter let go and held his hands up. “You have to come.” Peter said and for once his face was missing the trademark sneer and he looked small and frightened. “It’s Mr Barrow...”


	9. Chapter 9

The shadow had been following Thomas down the staircase, watching silently as he struggled with each step. Thomas paid it no mind. He had grown used to it following him doggedly over the years. Perhaps a long time ago it had been frightening; as a child thinking about losing his Mother and sisters maybe, or in the war when the young, strong lives that had sprung up around him had been so effortlessly taken into the shadow's darkness before his eyes. He had felt the weight of it’s beckoning finger not so long ago. Every night he had lain awake, listening to the enticing words it would whisper. He had yearned to fall into the escape of it’s arms, but that dark time had passed away. Now, death could wait. 

Maybe he was hallucinating, he considered. He still felt vaguely feverish, as if the world were spinning the wrong way and he might topple off at any second and his lungs were fighting to inflate. In the night he had hovered in the between dreaming and waking state. The cough that was overtaking him sometimes grew scary with it’s growing pain and lasting hold. The fever that gripped him made him imagine his cough as a giant claw tightening and tightening around his chest. It was only when he would feel Andy’s arms gripping his shoulders, the water being pressed to his lips, that the world felt clear again. 

But Andy was worried. Even through the mist of his illness, Thomas could see his furrowed brow and sense him fidgeting restlessly. He kept trying to speak, to tell him that everything would be sorted out in the morning, when he could reveal the letter and fire Peter, but the stupid fool kept shaking his head and telling him not to talk, to lie down and rest. When Andy left his room before dawn, his lips had brushed Thomas’s forehead before the door closed, and even half asleep Thomas could feel the dark cloud that was haunting him. 

That was why, although he was not a fool and knew he should not be working, he had dragged himself out of bed and dressed himself with difficulty. Getting downstairs had been the biggest challenge and he had clutched the bannister bent over, pausing every few seconds to wait for coughing fits to abate. But the night before he had told Peter to come to his office first thing in the morning. Thomas planned to fire him quickly so that Andy would not have to worry any more, then go straight back to bed and rest for the remainder of the day. 

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he had to lean against the wall and pant his breath back. He was just outside Mrs Hughes’s office, and he could hear hers and Baxter’s voices wandering out of the slightly ajar door into the hush of the stairway. He was just gathering the strength to make it through the doors and to his own office, when he heard Mrs Hughes mention his name. Eavesdropping was second nature at Downton, so he lingered a little longer to hear what they had to say about him. 

“I think you may be being a little harsh.” Mrs Baxter said to Mrs Hughes, a nervous laugh hovering behind her careful words. “Andy does care about Thomas a great deal. He was ever so worried about him last night and I’m sure he didn’t get a wink of sleep for fretting. He is a good lad, deep down.” 

“Oh, I never doubted that.” Mrs Hughes replied, sighing. “He is, however, just as you said _a lad._ It’s not an easy path they are walking. After all the shenanigans this week has brought us, I’m not sure Andy has the strength that Thomas needs just now. I will keep my thoughta to myself, of course, but I can’t help feeling a little uneasy about the whole business.” 

“Perhaps we will all feel a little easier once this Peter fellow is out of the picture.” Phyllis reflecte, and he heard her voice coming gradually closer as she walked towards the door. When she came into the hallway, she nearly stumbled over Thomas and dropped the small pile of mending that she was holding. She gave him a long looking over before she stooped to retrieve the dresses. “You look like death warmed up. I hope that you are not intending to work today?”

“I just have one thing to attend to.” He told her reassuringly. “Like you said, we will all feel a little easier once Peter is out of the picture. Would he be waiting in my office like I asked him to?”

“He is in the kitchen chatting with Daisy, I think. Would you like me to nudge him in your direction?” 

“Please.” Thomas made a move towards the door before dissolving in a large bout of coughing once more. Baxter took hold of his arm to help him to the office. 

“You will go straight back to bed afterwards, won’t you?” She looked at him pleadingly, worry in her eyes. “Andy is just outside, so get somebody to fetch him when you have finished, and he can help you inside.” 

“I will be fine.” Thomas insisted, but this excruciating cough had left him wheezing and he had to cling on to her a little tighter than he would have liked to. 

Finally in the quiet privacy of his office, he allowed himself to collapse into the chair. He took out the little mirror he kept in his desk drawer and tried to still his hands to inspect his bedraggled reflection. The scratch at the back of his throat felt so sharp that it brought the prickle of tears to his eyes. Maybe it was the shivering of the fever taking hold once more, but he was sure he saw that shadow looming behind his shoulder again. He let the mirror fall to the floor and shatter, concentrated on gripping the edges of the desk to calm the tremor of his hands. When Peter knocked on the door, he had let his eyes close as they were so desperate to do and the shadow felt even closer, so close that he could smell the pungent odour of it’s breath and it made him gag. 

“Mr Barrow, are you in there?” Peter called, knocking once more. 

“Come in.” Thomas said, clearing his aching throat. 

Peter crossed the room quickly without making eye contact. He waited by the seat until Thomas told him he could sit down. Then he hung his head and waited for Thomas to speak. Thomas then realized he hadn’t planned what he was going to say or even brought the letter with him. He knew he was failing the very first time he had to assert himself enough to actually fire somebody, but he suddenly felt so tired that he could not gather the energy to search for the correspondence from Mr Poucher. 

That was when he felt the chest pain that was many times sharper than everything he had felt previously. Before he descended into gasping coughs that caused him to retch and gag, he looked up to see the shadow standing tall behind Peter’s chair. He tried to shake his head, but the cough convulsed his body so much he was incapable. He put his hands to his mouth as the cough became more vicious and noticed with panic that they were streaked with dark red blood. He looked up at Peter who was watching, eyes wide and mouth open in concern. 

“I’m going to get Andy.” Peter said, pushing back his chair immediately. “And Mrs Hughes too. She will have to call Dr Clarkson now.” 

Thomas could not do anything by this time but concentrate on the squeezing of every breath from his chest. By the time he heard the door open again, that shadow had him in it’s tenacious grip. He could feel it's ice spreading all over his body and his thoughts became hazy and disjointed. He did hear anxious voices all around him; Peter, Mrs Hughes, Cora and then later Doctor Clarkson, followed by lots of prodding and poking. Something cold and herby was pushed into his mouth. Whatever this potion was, it made him feel so light that he could drift to the ceiling and forget the shadow that was wrestling with him. 

All this time, he felt the warm pressure of someone squeezing his hand. He knew that this was Andy, could feel the fidgety weight of him and hear his breath. This was more of a tonic than the vapours and syrups that were forced upon him. He surrended himself to the shadow and saw no more.


	10. Chapter 10

“And what did you say that your name was again?” She looked down at Andy from her great height, condescension shooting like daggers down her elongated nose. They had been introduced three times now and even Andy could remember her troublesome name, Ursula Elizabeth Barrow-Mackenzie, Thomas’s elder sister. She had forgotten his name three times now and he was beginning to suspect she was doing it on purpose. 

“This is Andrew, remember?” Phyllis was sitting on the other side of Mrs Hughes’ office, where she had been chatting to the younger, light haired sister who had been her friend, and Thomas’s Mother. All four of them had been summoned when Doctor Clarkson arrived and diagnosed Thomas with pneumonia. He said the situation was grave and the family ought to be contacted. Andy had stayed for as long as he could before being forced back to his duties. When he returned in the early evening and was told to step into Mrs Hughes room, after dinner, he found the whole of Thomas’s immediate family gathered. There was Thomas’s Mother, the eldest sister Ursula, the middle sister who was Phyllis Baxter’s close friend, Alexandra, and the youngest, Meredith, who sat on the other side of Andy so that her large elbows kept nudging him every time she glanced at her pocket watch and sighed. 

“Oh yes, you’re the footman?” Ursula feigned interest and straightened the neat plait of the floral dress that she wore. Thomas had told him once that Ursula was the wife of a grocer but from her grandiose manner and uppish tone of voice he would have assumed her of much higher class. “Snooty as hell.” Thomas’s only remark had been, if he remembered correctly, and Andy turned his head slightly to hide the amusement in his eyes. Thomas certainly had been right about that. 

“It’s very sweet of you to be here.” She said, shaking the dark curls that fell in cascades from her tight bun and dangled before her eyes. “You mustn’t neglect your duties for Thomas’s sake. He won’t thank you for tardiness when he awakes, I am sure.” 

“Andrew is a very close friend of Thomas.” Phyllis explained. “He was with him when Dr Clarkson arrived.” 

“I told Andy that it was alright for him to come here and wait for Doctor Clarkson to finish his examination.” Mrs Hughes bustled into the room with a tea tray just then. “Dinner duties are taken care of and I’m sure Peter can manage with anything else that is needed until we hear how Thomas is doing.” 

“Oh, I was just saying that our Thomas has always had a great eye for detail. He takes it all very seriously. In my opinion, it’s that what’s made him ill like this. I told him last time he was visiting with my children, he ought to give up service and come back home.” She shook her head sadly, sighing. “Thomas has some substantial savings now. He could buy back Papa’s shop and make a good little business, selling clocks. But he just insists on staying here.” She wrinkled her nose and looked around in distaste. “I don’t see the appeal, myself. Unless he has some girl he has his eye on. It’s about time he got married. We were just saying the other day that he’s the last in the family line. He needs to hurry up and have some children so the name gets carried down. He’s so good with children too...” 

“I do hope the doctor hurries up.” The blonde haired Alexandra interruipted and Andy sighed in relief. The sound of Ursula’s relentless nasal voice, with her curls dancing up and down with her words, were sending him to sleep. He felt so tired that if it wasn’t for the tight clench of worry in his abdomen, he would topple off the chair and start snoring in front of all them. “I’m so very worried.” 

“I don’t put much stock in these country doctors.” Ursula frowned. “They spend too much time treating peasants on the estate with personal hygiene issues for things like lice and scabies. Who knows what diseases they carry around with them? At least soon we will be able to take Thomas home where he can be looked after properly with our family doctor.” 

“You’re taking him home?” Andy repeated, ignoring Mrs Hughes who had turned a worrying shade of magenta after Ursula’s comments about Dr Clarkson. 

“I have his room all prepared for him.” This was the first time that Andy had heard Thomas’s Mother speak. She was a small woman but had a quiet dignity about her that effortlessly commanded the room’s attention. When Andy looked across at her, he saw Thomas’s blue eyes looking back at him through hers. “It will be nice to have him home for a change. He visits so rarely.”

“He will have to be well enough to travel first.” Mrs Hughes muttered irritably, sipping her tea. “Shall we see what Dr Clarkson has to say?” 

“Of course he will be returning home with us as soon as he well enough.” Ursula reiterated, watching Andy, who had begun to fidget in his chair. “He will do better there with his family to take care of him.” 

“He might not have family here but he has people who care about him.” Andy said, restraining the anger in his voice and speaking as calmly as he could manage. Dr Clarkson stepped into the shocked silence that hung heavy on the room after Andy had spoken. He didn’t seem to notice the awkward hush and hurriedly told them that Thomas’s breathing was improving although he was still heavily sedated. After he gave his detailed prognosis, everybody began to rise so that they could enter the room where Thomas was lying. When Andy climbed to his feet, breathing slow now with relief, Ursula stepped before him and blocked his path. 

“I think it is best not to overcrowd him.” She said haughtily, giving him a look so scathing that Andy was positive she knew everything. “Family only, would be better, don’t you agree?” 

Colouring with seething rage, Andy stepped back and conceded though every fibre in his body longed to challenge her and follow them to where he could see Thomas, he knew now was not the right time to argue. Mrs Hughes had been watching the exchange and she nodded at him in silent sympathy. She took his arm and they walked away together. 

“I do believe I owe you an apology.” She admitted as they walked. “You were right about sending for the doctor. I should have been quicker to spot that Thomas was indeed desperately ill like you said." 

“No need to apologise.” He shook his head and sighed. “I’m just glad Thomas is out of danger now. Are Thomas’s sisters staying here at the abbey?” 

“I did offer them a room but they already booked in at the pub in the village.” She rolled her eyes. “Ursula took great care to tell me that they would not settle for a bed in the servants quarters. She has a very high opinion of herself, that one. You go and get some rest now. With Thomas going back to be with his family, we will have to find somebody to replace him as butler. Until then, your duties will likely be doubled, so we need you fully rested and well.” 

 

Andy slept soundly until late into the night, when he woke to flashbacks of Peter’s stricken face, telling him with panic speeding his words that Thomas was very ill and Andy must come quickly. When Andy had entered the office, Thomas had been struggling for breath and he reached out for Andy as if he were drowning. Andy hadn’t let him go until Dr Clarkson ordered everyone from the room. With these thoughts invading his mind, the idea of sleep was hastily abandoned and he jumped from the bed and threw his shirt and jacket back on. He followed the sound of clattering from the kitchen and found Daisy, Peter and Betsy there. Peter and Betsy were sat at the table eating chocolate brownies while Daisy stirred a pan of warm milk. Betsy and Peter looked up from their giggly conversation and regarded Andy with conflicted expressions. 

“How is Mr Barrow doing?” Peter asked, his mouth full of chocolate chips. “This first night will be telling, I expect. If he makes it through until morning, he will be well enough in a few weeks.” 

“Since when did you become a doctor?” Andy eyed him cynically and Peter shrugged his shoulders. 

“I just know a bit about pneumonia, is all.” He fiddled with the crumbs of his chocolate brownie and looked past Daisy to the kitchen windows in thought. “My brother had it a few times. My Ma was always told, if he lasts the night he will be well.”

“It’s a good job Peter was there to fetch you and Mrs Hughes.” Betsy said loftily, gazing at Peter with eyes alight in admiration. “God knows what would have happened otherwise.” 

“Would you like some, Andy?” Daisy was pouring the milk into cups and slicing some more pieces of chocolate brownie. “Mrs Patmore made my favourite cake because I leave for the farm tomorrow.” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I forgot all about that, what with everything...” 

“Don’t worry about it. You have had a lot of other things on your mind today.” She placed a cup of milk and a brownie on the other side of the table for him and gestured for him to sit beside her. “It’s not like I am going to the other side of the world anyway. We will see each other plenty on the farm, won’t we?” 

“Of course.” He smiled at her and took a small sip of milk. “Daisy, I have to tell you that I didn’t take your ring. I don’t know how it got in my room.” 

“I do.” She glanced over at the other couple at the table and Peter, who was laughing loudly at something Betsy had said. “Maybe I doubted you for a second. But if you hit him, it was probably because he said something to deserve it.” 

“Don’t talk about that.” He felt the hot colour spreading over his cheeks. “I shouldn’t have hit him but he was talking such crap about Thomas.” 

“You really love him, don’t you?” She whispered, smiling. “It must be so hard for you, seeing him so poorly like that.” 

“If I ever _get_ to see him.” He sighed and pushed the chocolate away. “It’s always going to be like this, isn’t it? I mean, his family won’t ever accept me. And we’ll always have to hide it. We can’t ever be free.” 

“Maybe.” Daisy nodded and paused thoughtfully. “But at least you have each other. I think that is always worth it. Sometimes I wish I had somebody who cared about me like that. It’s silly, but I used to dream about Thomas too. I was a fool then, I thought having a sweetheart would make me happy.” 

“Won’t it?” He glanced over at the other side of the table again. “Peter seems to have his eye on you...” 

“Well, it looks like his eye is on someone else now.” She nodded, as Betsy wiped the chocolate crumbs from Peter’s mouth and shook her head, laughing. “No, I don’t want that sort of life. I won’t be chained to a kitchen sink with brats clutching at my apron strings. Miss Bunting told me about how much more women can achieve and that’s what I want, Andy.” 

“And you’ll get it, I bet.” He squeezed her shoulder fondly. “We have been good friends, haven’t we?” 

“When we aren’t pretending to be sweethearts, yes.” She squeezed his shoulder back. “It will be hard for you with Thomas but don’t give up. You deserve to have what you want too.”

They finished their milk and brownies, talking through the memories they had shared together at the abbey until Peter and Betsy retired to their beds and Andy took took Daisy outside to show her his and Thomas's friend, who was waiting patiently to be fed.


	11. Chapter 11

Thomas sank back into the soft depth of the freshly propped pillows and breathed in their clean scent. He remembered being ill as a child; how his Mother would bring him tea on a tray and read to him boys’ adventure stories. He never listened much to the words, just followed the steady stream of her voice and let his eyelids droop. He did the same now as he watched Andy struggling over the newspaper he was attempting to read to Thomas. It was evening and the rest of the servants would be gathered around the table to eat their meal now that upstairs had been served theirs, but Andy had been given special permission from Mrs Hughes to bring up Thomas’s meal and sit with him to eat his own. Their plates now lay empty on the window sill and Andy had begun to read to him, as he had determinedly done every night for the past week, since Thomas had awoken from his sedated slumber and begun to recover. 

He would watch with an affectionate smile as Andy struggled with the longer words in the article, remembering how the two of them had bent over exercise books in this room. He had swiftly swallowed down the waves of desire that cascaded inside of him as Andy pressed his pencil hard to the page and copied letters for hours. Now he could let the tenderness awash over him without reproof as Andy worked his tongue around the words that had once been impossible. 

Now and again, remnants of the violent cough that had overtaken him returned. Andy reached for the water on the bedside table and handed it over before folding the newspaper and placing it next to the small bundle that he had brought upstairs with him that evening; books, chocolate and letters. Andy’s hands instinctively found his and squeezed tight until the coughs released their hold. 

“All of that and you still ask me to bring you smokes.” Andy shook his head in mock disdain. “I won’t let you light one again.” 

“We’ll see about that, won’t we?” Thomas said, raising his eyebrows daringly. 

“I’m serious, Thomas. That is twice I nearly lost you and I won’t let it happen again. Dr Clarkson said that you should give up smoking for good.” 

“He advised rest and fresh, sea air too but that is hardly going to happen in the middle of Yorkshire now, is it?” Thomas swallowed another sip of water and kissed the worry lines on Andy’s forehead. “Don’t be all maudlin. I’ll live, won’t I?” 

“You bloody well will do if I have anything to do with it.” Andy’s brow was still furrowed but when Thomas took hold of his waist and pulled him on to the bed to hold him close, he didn’t put up a fight. They lay facing each other and Andy rubbed his aching chest. “Your sisters are on about taking you away. So maybe you will get that fresh air Dr Clarkson was talking about.” 

“Oh yes? Well, those three witches are always trying to find ways to draw me back into their coven.” Thomas rolled his eyes sneeringly. “They boss me around like I am still the baby they dressed up. They will be putting ribbons in my hair again next.” 

“I would like to see that.” Andy laughed. 

“No doubt you will. There is photographic evidence. Mother will enjoy forcing you to look through the albums when we visit.

“We will visit?” Andy asked quietly, clenching and unclenching his fists. “I don’t think they like me at all. Everyday Ursula asks me why I keep coming to see you, Your Mother doesn’t say much but she always watches me like a hawk. They’re very protective of you and they see me as a threat, I can tell.” 

“They can be as protective as they want and it won’t make any difference. They never protected me when I actually needed them to.”

“You mean when you were a child?” Andy prodded his chest gently and looked deep into his eyes, inciting confidence. “Was it your Father?” 

“I wasn’t the boy he wanted me to be.” Thomas said simply, after a few moments silence. “My Ma and sisters might have petted and fawned over me but they were quite happy to look the other way when they saw the bruises. I suppose they expected me to be a different kind of boy too. I bet Ursula mentioned to you that they expect me to get married and produce heirs to the family name?” 

“She might have said something like that.” Andy laughed. “She thinks you have a girl on the go here at Downton or something.” 

“If only she knew.” Thomas leaned a little closer to Andy and ran his fingers over the length of his recumbent body. His bones still ached and everything felt sore, but moving to curl closer into the embrace was worth the pain. Andy continued to massage his chest with those restless fingers and they lay quietly in the pitch darkness, listening to the sound of the evening at the abbey; doors closing and locking, cars backing away on the gravel as dinner guests retreated, the maids climbing the stairs to light fires and dress ladies for their beds. Outside in the corridor they heard Peter laugh loudly and Betsy shouting something from downstairs. Andy proceeded to whisper to Thomas that the two young ones were spending a lot of time together just recently, and had been caught canoodling by an irate Mrs Hughes more than once. 

“He’s lucky to still have his position.” Thomas said, coughing a little and sipping the water Andy handed him. “As soon as I’m back on my feet I’m going to fire him anyway, so he best make the most of his little conquest.” 

“Do you have to fire him?” Andy asked, aft er a pause for thought. “Could you not just reprimand him sternly? You would manage that well enough.” 

“Are you joking? The git tried to ruin you and you’re happy for him to stay here at the abbey?” 

“Not necessarily. Just thinking, if you give him just one more chance, nobody can accuse you of favouring me over him. Then you can fire him as soon as he steps out of line again.” Andy chewed on his bottom lip, thinking. “And he did come and get me when you were so sick in your office. I hate thinking about him not being there that morning.”

“Did you fall for his sob story and all? Alright, one more chance. But he has to apologise to me and I have to see that he is truly repentant.” 

“I can just see you making him bend and scrape for you.” Andy laughed loudly at the thought.

They settled into the quiet of the room and the comfort of each other once more. Thomas hated that he couldn’t reach fot Andy and pull him so much closer like he wanted, but he knew his body was still too fragile.That morning he had asked his Mother to bring his mirror so he had seen the way his already pale porcelain complexion had even more of a pallor now and dark shadows circled his eyes. She kept repeating the words Doctor Clarkson had said about the pneumonia placing a severe strain on his chest, and the need to take things easier. She would then casually mention that his room was still empty and she and Meredith would be quite happy to nurse him until he felt stronger. Thomas thought of Meredith with her face scrunched up so tight in bitterness at the fate of being a spinster, still living at home with Mother and winding their father’s clocks each morning. He grimaced at the thought of returning to the musty smelling house with photos of his Father’s stern features watching reprovingly from every wall and surface. 

“It’s not fair to stay here and impose on Lord Grantham’s goodwill for much longer.” His Mother had said. She had always insisted on good manners and consideration of the feelings of others. Thomas had wondered at that sometimes, when she had silently set her mouth into a line while she washed the blood from the gashes in the shape of his Father’s belt buckle that covered his back. She never seemed to mind Thomas’s feelings so much then. 

“You know, they will need to find someone to replace you while you are recovering.” She continued, wringing her fingers in worry. “You can’t stay in the room they will need for the new butler. There are plenty of things for you to do at home. Don’t you think that it is time you left service and settled down to start a family?” 

“Not really, no.” Thomas replied with an acid glare. “I can’t think of anything I would despise more than that.” 

“There is no need to be so rude.” She pursed her lips and shook her head. “Thomas, I really don’t know what is wrong with you. We have travelled all this way to come and see you and we sit in this room every day taking care of you, and yet you barely speak a word to us and make it very clear our presence is unwanted. Why don’t you talk to us and tell us what you are thinking of?” 

Thomas considered how he would form the words, how he could put into a sentence the secret that had forced the rift between himself and his Mother since he was young. Sometimes when he was younger, he suspected that she knew, that they all knew and that was why they never said a word about how their Father treated him so much more harshly than his sisters’. But now, as he saw the confusion on her face as she struggled to understand him, he knew that she only saw the small boy who had once adored her that had now turned to a stranger. None of them had said anything because they were all just as scared of his father’s temper and sharp tongue. He said some reassuring words to her then and promised he would think about her offer of his old room at home. 

“I love you.” Andy whispered, making Thomas jump out of his reflections and look again at the young man who was lying beside him, watching him with eyes so wide. Thomas wondered for a moment if he had followed path of his thoughts with every expression just then and felt suddenly very vulnerable. They had never spoken these words before, but these quiet moments together had the current of their love pulsing gently through them. They both knew it, they were just waiting to see which one of them was brave enough to speak the words first. He shouldn’t be so surprised it was Andy. He worried constantly that he was dragging Andy into something that he wasn’t ready for, but it had been Andy who had kissed him first. He remembered how Phyllis told him that Andy forced the door down to get to him and how he had kept hold of him the entire time the fever was ravaging his body. Thomas knew now that the man he loved was strong.

“I love you too.” Thomas whispered, kissing him tenderly and nestling into a tight embrace.

 

The next morning, when Thomas’s Mother and his sister Ursula entered Thomas’s room, they found Peter sat in the chair beside the bed in deep, serious conversation with Thomas. They both quietened when the door opened and it was obvious something important had been interrupted. Peter had come to see Thomas of his own accord, saying he wished to see how he was doing and to talk to him about something. He had confessed that he had been the one who had stolen the money and the jewellery. He said that he felt jealous of Andy, because he was popular with everybody, especially Daisy, and Peter felt that he would never be able to fit in and make friends at the abbey. It was only since Betsy came along that he had begun to feel as though he had someone to talk to and he was beginning to see now that his old pal Christopher wasn’t the best judge of character. 

Peter nodded and said good morning to Thomas’s Mother and sister, but he kept his eyes downcast and the colour in his cheeks was rising as he hastily fled the room. Ursula and her Mother watched the young boy walk away with great interest, when Ursula turned back to Thomas her eyes were flickering with malice. 

“Yet another footman come to see you? Goodness me, no wonder you are so fond of Downton, Thomas. It seems you are quite popular around here. What was that other little servants name? You know, the tall one with the curly hair? Was it David? He seems very taken with you too, Do you know, he was almost falling asleep waiting to see how you were on that first day we were here. And now, there is this new blonde one...” 

“That Andy does seem nice.” His Mother interrupted as she straightened the bedsheets. “You mustn’t be so vulgar, Ursula, I am glad that Thomas has such devoted friends.” 

“He is more than a friend.” Thomas said suddenly and the two women stopped their chatter to look at him with open mouths. “Andy and I are more than friends.”

“I beg your pardon?” Ursula’s eyes grew rounder than they had ever been and she lifted her hand to her mouth. “Thomas, how could you say such a disgusting thing to us like that? I never heard anything so horrible and...” 

“Be quiet, Ursula.” Thomas’s Mother snapped, silencing her daughter at once. Ursula turned away with moistened eyes like an admonished child and their Mother took the vacant chair beside Thomas's bed. “Tell me everything.” She said quietly, taking his hand. “Tell me all about Andy.”


	12. Chapter 12

Andy was slightly perturbed to see the empty bed when he entered Thomas’s room that morning. For the past month he had been visiting his room every night to eat meals and spend a little time holding and caring for him and in the last couple of weeks everybody had noticed a steady improvement in his condition. In fact, just recently Mrs Hughes had asked him to take Thomas a little walk, starting just down the corridor and increasing to the kitchen and out into the grounds as his strength built up. Andy had quite enjoyed the opportunity to aid Thomas on these little ventures. He could take hold of his arm and have him lean close to him as they walked and nobody batted an eyelid. They all smiled at them and said how lovely it was to see him back on his feet again. 

Mrs Hughes was in Thomas’s room when he entered Thomas’s room that morning. She and Betsy were changing the sheets and tidying the room. Betsy did not look up from her task of straightening blankets. Her nervous fingers worked quickly at making straight lines with each fold and her eyes were crossed and darkened under a furrowed brow. Mrs Hughes, however, smiled and nodded at him with her new friendly manner towards him, indicating that all was well and there was no need to be concerned about Thomas’s conspicuous absence. 

“Did you send for me, Mrs Hughes?” He asked, ducking his head to fit under the doorway. “Peter said you asked for me.” 

“Yes, that’s right.” She assisted Betsy with her folding and tutted her tongue at the younger maid’s fretful demeanour. Andy was watching her, waiting for her to explain why he had been summoned to the room, but she didn’t make eye contact with him.“Do please stop whittling about your beau, Betsy. I don’t know what has gone off between the two of you, but I’m sure it will all come out in the wash. These things usually do.”

Betsy pouted at Mrs Hughes and then looked across at Andy with her moody eyes. “I saw Mr Barrow leaving Downton with his Mother and sisters this morning. They looked as if they were going somewhere important. They all had suitcases with them and Tom Branson was waiting for them in the hall. He said something about giving them a lift to the train station.”

Andy wrinkled his forehead with worry at this new information. He knew that for the last few days the family had been making it known that they planned to return home very soon, now that Thomas was beginning to improve and was well enough to travel. Thomas’s Mother had caught hold of his arm just the day before and had asked him whether he thought Thomas would return home with them for a little while. Andy had shuddered with a rush of icy nervousness when she asked him if he had a moment. There was something about her quiet solidity that unsettled him. He knew when her mind was set on something she would not budge it, much like her son. 

“Don’t you think Thomas would do better at home for at least a couple of months?” She said urgingly, her big blue eyes pleading with him. “You know, you would be quite welcome to come and stay with Thomas whenever you wanted to. Of course, you might want to keep your situation here, but the two of you could write and meet up again once he had fully recovered. I am so very glad that he has a friend like you on his side. I can tell that you care about him and want what is best for him.” 

Andy mulled it all over in his mind as the woman waited for his reply. He and Thomas had discussed the situation just the night before and Thomas had been very clear that returning home with his family was definitely not what was best for him. He said he would rather set himself on fire than have his Mother and sister stick their big noses into all areas of his life, as he knew that they would. He was aware that he could not return to his duties just yet, however, but neither of them could think of another alternative. Mrs Barrow was still waiting for his reply, and he knew he could not repeat Thomas’s words about setting himself on fire, so he just muttered something about trying to talk to Thomas about it. She was a small woman but she was formidable, and Andy didn’t want to have to be the one to refuse her. 

Now, as Betsy watched him digest the news about Thomas’s departure, he wondered if maybe she had exerted her power over her son and convinced him to leave with her. He very much doubted it. Only last night, they had held on to each other and whispered the new words of love over and over, and Thomas had even mentioned another one that sent shivers down his spine; he had said forever. 

“Betsy, please go and get started on Lady Mary’s room and try to wipe that surly expression off your face while you’re at it. It does you no favours.” Mrs Hughes shook her head as the girl flounced from the room. “I do apologise. That girl is driving me barmy today. I do believe she has had some sort of fight with Peter. I do hope he hasn’t been having his wicked way with her. She has been looking slightly pale...” Mrs Hughes narrowed her eyes and then looked at Andy and started. “Oh yes, I sent for you, didn’t I?” 

“Where has Thomas gone with his family?” Andy couldn’t contain his need to ask the question for a moment longer. “Did he go to the train station with Tom Branson like Betsy said he did?” 

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry too much about that.” She shook her head offhandedly and began to wipe the window sill with her duster. “Lord Grantham called me to the library yesterday to talk about Thomas’s illness and what is to be done about it all.” 

“He’s going to hire a new butler, isn’t he?” Andy felt the muscles in his stomach clench in anxiety. “Has Thomas got to find somewhere else to recover?” 

“No, not at all. He had a rather good suggestion and I made a few to him too. And I think you will agree with me when I explain it all to you.” She said and told him to sit down by the window so that she could go through the plan in detail with him. As he listened, the worries that had begun to creep in instantly melted away and everything clicked into place. He and Mrs Hughes both agreed that this was the way forward and Andy said he would talk it through with Thomas when he returned from wherever it was he had disappeared to. When he said this, Mrs Hughes smiled secretively and hastened from the room. 

Andy adjusted his awkward position on the hard back chair and allowed himself a small smile. For so long the future had been something he didn’t dare himself to dream or even imagine. It was enough to have love for the present, to go to Thomas’s room at night and gratefully receive affection without demanding or expecting anything more, like the way the cat would accept his strokes and then disappear into the night with no promises to return. Love like theirs always had to remain hushed and hidden, so to think of a future together was a precarious business and best left well alone. But now, dreams began to flicker on the horizon. They danced like the tiny dust motes that the spring sunshine illuminated in the stillness of this room where he and Thomas had shared so much. 

The motor car that made slow progress up the drive to the abbey made Andy peer a little closer out of the window. He wasn’t aware that they were expecting visitors and if they were, he would surely have been asked to wait by the door. He craned his eyes to see the driver’s seat and when they finally focused on the solitary figure hunched over the steering wheel. He jumped from his chair and raced down the steps and out of the side entrance, his shoes scratching heavily on the gravel as he ran to the opening car door. 

“What are you playing at?” He asked Thomas, who smiled at him from beneath his hat as he closed the door to the dark green motor car. “Who does that car belong to?” 

“Me, of course.” He smiled with pride and nodded at the gaggle of servants that had gathered at the doors to inspect the new vehicle. “Do you approve, Mr Parker? Branson took me on a ride to the station to see Ma and the three sisters off, and on the way back we called by Branson’s car shop to put a desposit down on this old banger here.” He tapped the engine hood and grinned then looked at Andy. “Do you like it?” 

“It’s very green and very big.” Andy laughed. “But is it really yours?” 

“You can check the paperwork if you like.” Thomas waved the documents beneath his nose teasingly. “So, I was wondering if you fancied going on a little daytrip with me? We won’t go far and we’ll back later this evening. I’ve promised Mrs Hughes I’ll be back in bed for nine at the latest.” 

“And he’s also promised that you’ll go to the sea to get some fresh air into those lungs of his.” Mrs Hughes regarded them both sternly “I was telling him yesterday, there is a healing spring on the cliffs near Scarborough, where many sick folk have been sent to recuperate. The two of you should make time to visit it.” 

“But can I really go?” Andy looked between the two of them. “What about my duties here? It isn’t my half day today and...”

“That is all taken care of.” Mrs Hughes smiled warmly at him. “Go on with the two of you, get moving before you take root and stop looking so gormless now, Andy, this has all been planned for a week or so .” After he helped Thomas climb back into the driving seat, she took hold of his arm and squeezed it firmly. “I’m trusting you to take good care of him now, so you will, won’t you?” She whispered. 

He nodded with a grin and clambered in beside Thomas as he turned the key in the engine. *** 

 

On Scarborough beach, the sun had graced the few daring bathers with a rare spring time appearance. Thomas and Andy sat on one of the benches looking out over the murky English ocean and held their trays of fried fish and chips protectively close, to ward off the seagulls that squawked and scrambled for scraps around them. There was a young Mother sitting beside them picking gingerly at her chips and her two shabbily dressed children roared like animals as they tore around the benches in wild circles. The family were sharing a tray of trips between them, so Thomas had cut his own fried fish in half and divided it between the two children. Andy smiled at their boisterous game as he crammed his mouth full of fish. When he looked across at Thomas, who was politely nibbling, he found him smiling. 

“What?” 

“You’re wofling down that fish like it’s going out of fashion. And here was me thinking about taking you to dinner in The Grand Hotel restaurant this evening.” Thomas sniggered over his chips. “They would chuck us out for being too slovenly.”

“I’m sorry.” Andy wiped the food from his mouth on the back of his hand. “When dinner was served at home, we all just grabbed what we could and went for it. I suppose you and your sisters would think we were like pigs at a trough.” 

“Don’t apologise.” Thomas brushed his hand against Andy’s knee. “It’s one of your many charms. And my sisters aren’t high class, they just like to think they are. You should hear the mouths on them when they’re at home. Ursula is no better than a fish wife. And as for me, I’m working class like you are. I just always had ideas above my station.” 

“But you always seemed like more of a gentleman than I am.” Andy made a feeble attempt to eat more politely, picking up the wooden fork to poke at his chips like Thomas had done. “Will you get used to me being such a scruffy big oaf like I am?”

“I think I would like to try. Why are you saying that? I really didn’t mean anything. I like to watch you eat; it’s charming.” 

“It’s just that Mrs Hughes was talking to me this morning.” Andy said delicately, keeping his voice low and out of the earshot of the young mother, who was attempting to control her runaway children. “She was telling me that there is a cottage on the estate, next to where she lives with Carson, and she thought the two of us might like to live there together.”

Thomas stared at him incredulously. Walking around Scarborough today had been a dream. They had been up and down the promenade with their arms linked and loosely touching. Nobody had turned a head to look at them. They saw some other young gentlemen down from Oxford or Cambridge who were doing exactly the same thing. They had walked around the castle museum and Thomas had made Andy read out all the signs, while they talked about the décor they would have in their own house if they were to have one. 

“Could that really happen?” 

“I don’t see why not.” Andy shrugged his shoulders. “Lord Grantham is desperate to keep you on as butler. Mrs Hughes asked Lord Grantham if you could have a friend stay with you at the cottage to care for you while your lungs recover and he agreed. We are all going to pitch in and help with your duties while you get better, and Mrs Hughes said that she saw no reason why we couldn’t live in that cottage together afterwards. She said as much to Lord Grantham, and he said he didn’t really mind as long as he doesn’t have to hire a new butler.”

“People will have a lot to say about it.” Thomas said slowly, his thoughts rushing. “They will guess at the real reason that we are living together.” 

“They might whisper about it but none of them would dare say anything openly. Officially, we would be living together as friends and anything else is our just our business. We have a lot of friends who will look after us.” Andy hung his head worriedly. “Unless, you don’t want to?”

“Of course I do.” Thomas smiled and nudged him. “As long as I get to choose the decorations.”

 

They returned to the abbey much later than they had promised Mrs Hughes they would, but she didn’t reprimand them as the servants hall was otherwise occupied. Peter and Betsy had announced earlier that afternoon that the two of them were getting married and leaving service to start a family, so there was a festive mood of celebration in the air. Mrs Hughes remarked to Andy that she had an inkling the marriage was down to slightly more than blossoming young love. She had noticed that Betsy looked pale and sickly recently, and her waist was slightly thickened. She wondered aloud how long such a rushed affair was likely to last and said she didn’t hold out much hope for it. Andy agreed with her and added that he didn’t really care one way or the other, so long as they set up their home far out of the village of Downton. 

He went looking for Thomas after his chat with Mrs Hughes and found him outside in the yard. He was hiding from the gathering around the piano outside with a blanket draped over his shoulders at Phyllis’ Baxter’s insistence. He sat on one of the crates, and a small black circle of fur was curled up on his knees. It was strange to see Thomas outside without a cigarette, but a lot of things were different these days. The shadow was gone from his eyes and there was a warmth about him that exuded from his slow smile. 

“He just sort of jumped on me when I sat down.” Thomas explained, giving the cat a stroke. “His leg is all healed now and I think he has forgiven me for hurting him.” 

“He probably always knew you were trying to help. Cats know these things.” 

“Do you think he will know where to find us? At the cottage, I mean.” 

“I don’t know. But I think he will.” 

Andy checked over his shoulder that the rest of the staff were busy and then wrapped an arm around Thomas’s shoulders. Thomas continued to stroke the cat and watch as it leaned into his touch. He let his head fall against Andy’s and settled against him snugly. They let the familiar quiet take them with it’s soft, thrumming pulse, as it would every time they closed the door of their cottage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who liked or commented on this little story. I am going to be writing something original so I might not be around for a while, but I will more than likely return to write these two again. From season one of watching Thomas, all I wanted was for him to find love by the end. I was so hopeful he would have Andy and then bitterly disappointed at the Christmas Special. I wish so much that there could have been another series so Thomas could have had at least a little love to ease his loneliness. I'll just keep imagining all the ways Andy and Thomas could have got together to make myself feel better. Please keep writing them xxx


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